All This Time
by hotchityhotchhotch
Summary: Hotch and Emily have both left the BAU for their own reasons. As a last-ditch effort to glue their little family back together, JJ asks them to do something that will carry more significance than any of them ever would have expected.  Rated M according to FFN's content guidelines. Contains some adult language and themes. COMPLETE.
1. Prologue

**Please enjoy! Reviews on old chapters are still much appreciated! :)**

**Trigger Warnings: Major character death in second chapter; PTSD from sexual abuse (actual abuse is ONLY implied; never described in any detail).  
**

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**Prologue**

**January 2011**

"Ohhh, my goodness," Emily sighed as JJ gingerly handed over her new bundle of joy. "Look at those little fingernails. JJ…she's so beautiful."

"Thanks," JJ said meekly from her hospital bed, where she lay sweaty and weary.

Emily sat down and stared in wonder at the slumbering little miracle.

"She is beautiful, JJ. Congratulations," Hotch said, hands stuffed in his pockets as he stood a few feet away from Emily, glancing on at the baby.

"Thanks, Hotch," JJ said, a big smile creeping across her face at hearing anything that personal out of her former boss's mouth. He had retired from his post as stoic Unit Chief of the BAU six months ago, but he took his demeanor along with him to the new desk job that allowed him to stay home more with Jack. "Thank you both for coming," she added. Only the three of them were in the room.

"Jayje, you're my best friend," Emily said. "Why on earth would I be anywhere else?"

"It doesn't matter where I'm working. All of you are family to me," Hotch said, backing Emily up.

JJ started to tear up, rolling her lips in and crinkling the hem of her sheets in her hands.

"What's wrong?" Emily asked, worried, finally peeling her eyes away from the pink little newborn.

"I just miss you both. And I don't think the pregnancy hormones are gone yet," JJ said, laughing at herself as she ran a delicate finger under each eye.

"I've been gone for like a _week_," Emily said, though still reaching out one hand to hold JJ's while the other nestled the baby.

"You can still change your mind, you know," JJ said. "We haven't replaced you yet."

Emily smiled consolingly at her friend. "I can't," she said, shaking her head. "It just didn't feel right anymore." Emily eyed Hotch furtively before looking JJ in the eye again. "I miss you, too, though. I miss everyone. But I didn't feel like it was where I belonged anymore." _Not without him._

JJ nodded resignedly.

"JJ…" Hotch said tentatively, finally pulling a chair away from the wall to sit near Emily, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. "Is there a reason you wanted just me and Emily in here?" He was certain he knew. There was only one reason JJ would want him and Emily, who hadn't seen each other more than a couple times since Hotch's retirement six months ago, in the same room as she and her baby.

"There is. Will and I were hoping you two would agree to be Charlotte's godparents." JJ flashed an expectant smile at her friends.

Emily and Hotch locked eyes with one another briefly before either one of them looked at JJ.

"I know it's an odd couple kind of thing, but Reid and Garcia are Henry's godparents. You can't get any odder than that, can you?" JJ added.

Hotch smirked at Emily, who didn't see him, but was instead busying herself with straightening the baby's blanket.

"So, will you?" JJ asked.

"Of course," Hotch and Emily said in unison.

JJ reached out for a hand from Emily and a hand from Hotch. "Thank you. It means so much that no matter where we go, we'll all still be a big family."

"I'm honored that you would ask, Jayje," Emily said.

"As am I," Hotch said.

Hotch and Emily shared an awkward look with one another, unbeknownst to JJ, who had taken a moment to confirm that her daughter was safe and content in Emily's arms.

"So, Charlotte, huh?" Emily said, glancing up at JJ. "I love it."

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**A/N: Please let me know what you think! Reviews are magical. Thank you for reading!**


	2. Late Night Callers

**Thanks for the reviews! As incentive to review, I will be writing a tie-in oneshot after the story's over, and I will send it to readers who have reviewed all or most of the chapters of this story. So if you're just starting out now (even after the story is complete), that's something to keep in mind.****  
**

**February 2011**

"Thank you so much again for babysitting," JJ said once Henry and Charlotte were put to bed. "We'll be back by ten, I promise."

"No problem, really. I don't have to be up in the morning, so take your time. Nice part about my new job is I actually _get_ President's Day off," Emily said. "Every stinking federal holiday. And you don't. Ha-ha."

JJ rolled her eyes, then slowly observed her surroundings, obviously mentally checking items off a checklist.

"JJ, go. Everything's fine. If I need anything I know where the drugstore is and I have your number. Have a nice date night with Will." Emily grabbed JJ's face and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

JJ gave Emily a hug in return. "Thank you. We'll try. Hopefully we make our reservation."

"Well, you're not gonna be on time if you don't go. Scram!" Emily waved JJ toward the door.

"Bye!" JJ yelled on her way out to meet a probably impatient Will in the car he'd gone out to warm up.

"Mommy?" Henry stood at the top of the stairs, his face showing between two of the balusters.

"Mommy and Daddy went to go get some dinner," Emily said to the two-year-old, climbing the stairs to join him. "You need to be in bed, though, sweetie. C'mon." Emily held her arms out and Henry held his out in return. Emily hoisted the boy into her arms and carried him back to his bedroom, which was papered in African safari cutouts and decked with stuffed animals to match.

"I want my mommy," Henry blubbered as soon as Emily put him back down into his bed.

"Honey, she'll be back in just a few hours, but she won't come back until you go to sleep, okay? You can see her in the morning. Lie down for me, okay?" Henry threw himself down onto his mattress and hid his face in the sheets. "I'm sorry, honey," Emily said, covering him back up. "Goodnight." She stayed for a moment while he continued to cry, but she didn't pick him up again. Maybe it was because her mother had said she'd raised her to be a self-soother. Emily left the door open a crack and decided to check on Charlotte, who wasn't making a peep from her bassinet in Will and JJ's bedroom. Emily admired the shock of blond hair on the girl's forehead, then grabbed the baby monitor. On her way out the door, she almost tried to holster it like a radio and laughed at herself.

Having had only eaten a quick dinner before coming over, Emily helped herself to some chocolate ice cream from the freezer. She flipped channels until she found a crappy Lifetime movie. _Just what the doctor ordered,_ she thought. By the time she'd found the movie, her bowl was clean, so she filled it up again.

Emily had tuned into the movie an hour late, so by the time another half hour passed, the main characters were finally sleeping together, had passed their obstacles in a neat little hour and a half. Despite the ice cream slowly filling her tummy, Emily watched on plagued by a feeling of emptiness, not the regret that came with overeating. She set the bowl aside and lay down on the couch, clutching a yellow throw pillow. This was starting to feel like Valentine's Day, almost week ago, when she'd been curled up on her own couch, stress-eating, feeling sorry for herself because even though she and Hotch didn't work together anymore, she didn't have the courage to go for him. That's what the last couple of years had been like, really, but that stupid greeting card holiday brought out the absolute worst in her penchant to throw herself pity parties.

She felt the tears coming forth when the baby monitor crackled right before it issued a scream. The thing was pretty unnecessary, as Emily could hear the baby loud and clear from downstairs in the hauntingly quiet house. She calmed herself and hurried upstairs.

Over herself and her issues for the time being, Emily toted the helpless, upset baby downstairs, shutting Henry's door on her way so as not to wake him. Just being picked up seemed to satiate Charlotte a little, but she still whimpered with balled up fists as if she wasn't sure whether anyone was going to take care of her.

"It's okay, honey," Emily said softly, rocking one arm back and forth gently while she pulled a bottle from the fridge and held it under hot running water. "Just a minute. Just a minute."

Emily hoped the baby needed to eat and didn't need a diaper change, because feeding the precious little girl sounded much more pleasant than changing her. She got lucky; Charlotte latched on to the bottle immediately. "You are _so_ cute," Emily marveled, taking her seat again on the couch, crossing her feet underneath her. "Want to stay up and watch crappy movies with me? You know, they call Lifetime: 'Television for Women,' but the women usually get the short end of the stick in these movies. Just one of the many words of wisdom I have for you. Here's another. Boys are stupid. Don't bother with them. You may feel a strong urge to have your own babies someday, but just let your girlfriends have babies and then pretend they're yours. Boys are just a bunch of trouble. They'll flirt with you, protect you, make you feel pretty, and then when they're bored, they'll just…up and leave. It doesn't matter how much they mean to you, they don't care. So like I said, boys are stupid. Oh, and it's totally okay to buy neopolitan ice cream and only eat the chocolate part. I do that sometimes. Everybody knows the chocolate part is the only important part. It's all about who gets to the carton first. Whenever you have the option, actually, don't even bother with neopolitan. Just get chocolate."

Charlotte's eyes peeled open for a moment, peering up at Emily. "Yeah. I know. Auntie Emily's a little crazy. But behind every crazy woman there's a boy at fault." Emily dropped a kiss on the baby's forehead and used her free hand to reach for a nearby baby blanket with which to cover her up. "I can't believe how little you are. I would very much like one of you for myself, but, like I said…boys are stupid…" Charlotte pushed the bottle nipple from her mouth, letting some milk dribble down her chin. Emily stopped her little rant and rested the baby against her chest. It wasn't long before she got a good burp out of Charlotte. "My sentiments exactly."

—

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Emily said gently as the baby continued to cry, exposed to the world while Emily tried to figure out which side of the diaper was the back and which was the front. "I'm _sorry_, honey. It's been a long time since I've done this. Actually, I don't even remember the last diaper I changed. There you go." Diaper situated, she patted Charlotte's belly before refastening her onesie and pulling her pants back up. "All better. Mommy and Daddy should be home soon, I think. Actually," she said, upon glancing at the wall clock, "they're running a bit behind."

No matter what Emily tried, the baby still fussed a little when the doorbell rang twenty minutes later. The FBI agent in Emily wondered whether it was safe to bring the baby to the door with her in the middle of the night when she wasn't expecting a visitor. But maybe JJ and Will forgotten their house keys. There was a window to the side of their front door, though, and the figure Emily could see through it looked an awful lot like a police officer. _Could be impersonating one_, Emily supposed, but she remembered that most cops were indeed real, that the BAU dealt with the ugliest of the ugly, and that she needed to stop living her life in fear.

Hoping that some vandals were simply on the loose and the cops were canvassing the neighborhood for witnesses, Emily decided she could at least open the door and tell them she couldn't be of any help.

She flipped the porch light on, unlocked the deadbolt, and opened the door.

"Good evening," the young officer said through the storm door. An older partner stood next to him.

"Good evening," Emily replied warily, trying to shush the baby and bounce her while talking to the officer. "Can I help you?"

"I'm Officer Clark, ma'am. This is Officer Stevens. May we come in?"

"Of—of course." Emily had spent years dealing with law enforcement and had rarely been this nervous.

"Are you a friend or relative of Jennifer Jareau and Will LaMontagne, Jr.?" Officer Clark asked once he and his partner were inside and the door was shut, blocking out the bitter wind.

Emily's eyes widened. "I'm—I'm a friend of theirs, yes. What's going on? Are they all right?" Officer Clark made that dreaded motion to take off his cap.

"I'm very sorry, ma'am, but they were both killed in a car accident about forty minutes ago."

Luckily, Emily clutched the once again crying baby more tightly instead of dropping her.

"They both passed instantly. They didn't experience any pain. Their…bodies—" The officer paused, unsure he'd used the right words. He sounded new at this. "—they're at the morgue at Virginia Hospital Center. They were identifiable from their driver's licenses, so no one needs to go in to identify them. Is there anything we can do for you?"

Emily wanted to cover her gaping mouth with her hand, but she didn't trust one arm to be strong enough to hold up a baby, even as featherlight as she was.

"Ma'am?"

"No," Emily choked. "No, thank you. I just—oh, God," she wailed finally. Officer Stevens quickly took the baby from Emily's trembling arms while Officer Clark rested a consoling hand on Emily's shoulder. "Ma'am, one of us can stay with you and the children until another friend or family member arrives. Or are you the only one in the area?"

Tears blurred Emily's vision so that the officers were just black blobs, and whatever the officer was saying to her was muffled beyond comprehension.

"Ma'am?" he said again. The baby shrieking in the background in reaction to being held by a stranger with very cold arms snapped Emily's sensations back into working order. "Would you like one of us to stay with you and the children? Records showed they also have a little boy. Is he here with you?"

"Yes, he's asleep." Emily, paused to catch her breath. "And n—no, I don't need you to stay but could you put her in her car seat over there for me? I don't think I can." Emily flapped her hands about, as if trying to wake them up. "Thank you," she said when Officer Stevens moved Charlotte's car seat from the table to the floor and reluctantly placed the screaming infant into it.

"If you need anything else, ma'am, please give the police station a call."

Emily couldn't bring herself to say anymore; she merely nodded, both her hands covering everything but her drenched eyes. She sat at a kitchen chair right before the news sank in further, before her knees liquefied underneath her. The front door was closed in a moment, and once that moment passed she inhaled in one long, deep, shuddering motion. The baby wailed away angrily in the background, but Emily could hardly process what to do with herself let alone her goddaughter.

"Phone, phone, phone," she muttered shakily under her breath. It was in her pocket. There was no doubt in her quickly drowning mind as to whom she would call first.

"Emily?"

"Hotch, I need you—"

"What's the matter? Why are you crying?" a concerned voice asked on the other end. She envisioned him putting down whatever it was he was doing, as it didn't sound like she'd woken him up. He sounded like she'd interrupted something.

"I need you—to come to—come to JJ and Will's house." She knew she was stuffy and wondered whether Hotch understood a word she uttered.

"What's going on?"

"Please just come. Okay?" she squeaked, not wanting to take in a gasping breath over the phone but unable to control herself. She thought she might begin to hyperventilate if she didn't slow down and breathe properly.

"I'll be there as soon as I can. Should I get a sitter for Jack or bring him with me?"

Trying to regulate her breathing, Emily didn't answer right away.

"Emily?"

"Get a sitter if you can. I hardly know what to do with these—just get a sitter and get here as fast as you can, please."

"I will."

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review!  
**


	3. Helpless Children

**This story has a lot of flashbacks that are not in chronological order-rather, they are inserted when their content ties into present day material. So take some notes!**

It took all Hotch had in him not to assume the very worst as he raced across town to Will and JJ's home. A mile before their house, he saw a tow truck, two cars smashed to smithereens, and a couple of police cruisers. _Can't be_, he forced himself to think.

Waiting was something to which Emily had never been a stranger. Waiting for her mother to notice her. Waiting for the right man to come into her life. Then waiting for Hotch for years. And now she found herself waiting for Hotch yet again, but in a much different sense. She couldn't be by herself right now. What to do with the screaming baby, she didn't quite know. Higher functioning was shot to hell at the moment. She'd at some point found her way to the floor, next to the car seat—that was the least she could do, sit down by the poor child—and was curled in an upright ball, her drenched face pressed between her knees.

**January 2011**

"If anything ever happens to me and Will—"

"JJ, don't even talk like that. Nothing's going to happen to you guys. My job as godmother is just to spoil the living daylights out of her. Right, honey?" Emily said to one-week-old Charlotte, who was cradled in her arms.

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"I'm sorry," Emily cried to the baby, but into her knees. "I don't know what you need." Emily dragged her fingers roughly through her dark hair, all the way down to the ends, at which point she pulled hard. The full-on, never ending sobbing she knew was inevitable hadn't come yet. She didn't know what it was waiting for. Charlotte's shrieking hurt her head physically almost as much as the knowledge that her best friend was dead drained her emotionally. Maybe that was why Emily didn't find herself completely helpless yet. She had a job to do.

So she finally picked up Charlotte, laid her against her chest. "I'm no better off than you are right now," she mumbled. "Thank you, God," she said with the utmost sincerity when the baby quieted. "If you're still looking down on me, please get Hotch here soon. I need him."

Hotch didn't knock, letting himself in through the door the officers had left unlocked a minute after Emily's little flare prayer. "Emily?"

"Hotch," Emily breathed. Before she could formulate an explanation as to why she was curled up on the floor, her eyes streaming anguished tears while she held the baby close, Hotch had thrown his wool jacket over a chair and was on one knee next to her.

"What's the matter?"

Emily's breathing was frighteningly shaky as she placed Charlotte back in her car seat, hoping that all she'd needed was to be held by someone warm and comfortable. She was right; the baby issued no more tears or cries. Once her hands were free, Emily meant to tell Hotch what had happened, but all she could do was bury her face in her knees again. The ability to formulate words, let alone sentences, completely eluded her at the moment.

Without making a noise, Hotch sat down next to Emily and ran a hand slowly up her back. Upon reaching her hair, he smoothed his hand over it. "Emily, you need to talk to me. What happened?" He wasn't certain whether it was the sight of Emily in such distress, or whether it was because only one thing could have her this distraught, but he found his own eyes watering now. "Is it about JJ and Will?"

This elicited the tiniest nod from Emily.

"Are they all right?" he asked, hoping that he would get a nod here, too. But Emily shook her head.

No more words were necessary. "Oh, God. Come here." He pulled the crumpled mess that was once (and maybe still) his best friend up against him. "How did it happen?"

"Car accident," Emily said, her voice quavering unsurprisingly as she gladly wrapped her arms around Hotch's neck and held on as though her life depended on it. It was one of those moments where the attention of another while grieving simply made things worse. Or maybe it was better. Yes, better. Emily needed to cry. Not just sit there with her face hidden while the tears slimed her hands, but sob like a helpless little child. Or like a woman whose life had just been turned upside down and inside out with the removal of a police officer's cap.

Emily's heaving, shameless sobs into Hotch's neck just made it harder for him to hold it together. JJ was gone. Will was gone. Though he hadn't known Will very well, what he did know was a nice man that had made JJ happy. JJ. Another one of his best friends. Vanished. Leaving a broken family and broken friends behind.

Hotch didn't shush Emily, didn't tell her everything was okay. She needed someone sincere and unafraid to be. He hadn't seen Emily since Charlotte's baptism, and before that, not more than a couple of times since his retirement, but he hadn't forgotten her, hadn't lost his ability to read her. She needed someone to mourn with her, not watch her pitiful figure do so at a distance and try to stop her. He found himself kissing her hair, leaving his lips there while he stroked her back with both hands.

Crying was always fatiguing. That was why Emily tried to limit her time spent doing it. She reserved it for crappy holidays meant to make women feel lonely and worthless, or for goodbyes to dear friends, whether their departure was willing or not, whether it was expected or not. The notion of just sitting there and crying until the end of time crossed her head, and she sent up a fleeting prayer that that could become a real possibility, that God would let her mourn endlessly instead of encouraging her to crawl her way out of the rubble and move on.

Someone really was listening. Her head ached, she could hardly hear, couldn't control her air intake worth a damn, but her body didn't shut down like it normally did after so much crying. She got to keep at it. And she had someone with her to let her know with his silence that her behavior was completely acceptable, not foolish or selfish in the least. He didn't try to quell her tears with questions, didn't try to drag her out of her little world where all that mattered was that she would never talk to JJ again.

**January**** 2011**

JJ was beyond teary-eyed behind her desk as Emily sat across from her, a guilty look written across her face. "I wish you'd tell me why you're really leaving," JJ said, reaching for a tissue.

"I told you. I don't belong here anymore." It was the truth. She'd tried. For nearly six months. But his absence left a hole that greedily consumed all of Emily's resources—emotional and cognitive—a hole that reminded her she hadn't mattered to him. That reminder killed her bit by bit, day by day. Work was becoming impossible.

"That's not good enough," JJ said, shaking her head.

"I still have another few weeks here. And I'm not moving away, Jayje." Emily's mouth hung down sadly while she reached for a hand of JJ's.

"I'm hardly home enough to spend enough time with Will and Henry, and I'll be having the baby soon. We're just going to be two friends who call on Christmas or something, try to set up a coffee date or lunch but find reasons to cancel."

"No, we won't," Emily said sternly. "I promise."

"Okay," JJ said, not sounding convinced. "I have to get to work. So do you. Go before Derek catches us."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

The baby was asleep. _Thank God_, Hotch thought. Emily had found herself completely tangled up with him, nowhere near asleep herself, still weeping, and Hotch wouldn't know what to do had the baby needed attention. He couldn't imagine anyone needing it more than Emily right now.

"I'm sorry, Hotch." Those were the first words Emily had spoken in two hours. The two hours that left Hotch's behind and legs without feeling. Her voice sounded into his chest.

"What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" he asked, his chin atop her head.

"This. I should be able to handle myself. I'm a grown woman." She didn't look up at him, didn't want him to see the mess she'd become.

"You lost your best friend, Emily. Please, grieve in whatever way you need to. I'm right here. Grieving with you." He felt a miniscule nod against his chest.

"What time is it?" Emily asked.

Hotch removed one of his arms from around Emily's back and checked his watch. "Two."

"I've been sitting here blubbering for two hours?" she burst out, immediately making a motion to climb out from between Hotch's legs. But she found herself caged in.

"If you have something better to do than mourn, you let me know what it is," Hotch said, not knowing where any of this was coming from. Maybe it was because he'd never seen Emily nearly this broken before. Her pitiful, red, soaking face stared up questioningly, yet gratefully, at his, which she was selfishly relieved to find wasn't completely composed either. Tears from awhile ago stained his cheeks, though he was no longer crying now, just flushed.

The heaving sobs finally let Emily be, at least for the time being. Left her enough time to talk, finally. There were things that needed addressing.

"Did you call anyone else?" Hotch asked, sensing that Emily was prepared to talk, could handle it.

"Not yet. I didn't think it would be a good idea to have people piling in the house with the kids here. God, Hotch, what do I say to Henry?"

"Let's sit on that one for a minute. Did Child Protective Services come?"

"No. The cops didn't say anything about what would happen to the kids, come to think of it."

"That might not be their job. Then CPS will probably come in the morning. I'm sure the cops didn't see it necessary since you didn't exactly look like you were going to run off with the kids. I don't know."

"I almost wish they would have taken them…Does that make me a horrible person?" Emily asked with heart wrenching candidness.

"No. It makes you a normal person. And they're called Child _Protective_ Services for a reason. They know how best to deal with these situations."

"I love the kids, I do, I just don't know what to—"

"I know you do, Emily. And so do I. And I don't know any better than you do how to handle this. Most likely they'll go to family. If we can make it until then in one piece, then things will get better. The kids will be okay."

"Age is such a curse."

"What do you mean?"

"I wish I were a toddler, Emily said. "Then I would be too young to remember."

"Oh," Hotch said softly. "I can't blame you there."

"It's selfish of me to be worrying about how _I'm_ going to handle this when Henry and Charlotte are going to grow up without their parents," Emily said in self-loathing.

Hotch gently rocked Emily to and fro, the first major movement he'd made in a long while besides checking his watch. Oh, how he ached inside and out. "It's not selfish. Don't be so hard on yourself. You comprehend the loss far more than Henry will when he finds out. And Charlotte won't know until she finds out that everyone else has mommies and daddies." Hotch felt like he was talking to Jack all of a sudden. Then again, what more was Emily right now than a helpless, semi-irrational child who needed comforting words? "And by that time, she'll have parents of some kind, whoever they are. Parents that love her and Henry. It's our responsibility to make sure that happens, remember? We'll make sure they're taken care of."

Emily nodded again, stretching her lungs with as much air as she could take in. "You know what terrifies me right now?"

"What?" Hotch didn't want to encourage this, but it wasn't about what _he_ was comfortable with, what _he_ could handle. Emily needed this.

"If and when I ever sleep again, I'm going to wake up, and for a few seconds it'll just be another day, but then I'm going to remember. Have you ever had that happen to you?"

"Unfortunately, I know exactly what you're talking about," Hotch said.

"You know, I've never lost anyone close to me before. I'm forty, and the only funerals I've been to have been for distant relatives, really. Or parents of friends. That kind of thing. So I have no idea what I'm doing."

"You don't need to know," Hotch said. "There's no guide book out there anywhere. You just deal with it however you can," he said, speaking from unfortunate first-hand experience.

"I want to do the funeral arrangements," Emily said after some silence. "I just don't know what I'm doing, really. I know that we haven't really been as good of friends as we used to be, so I have no right to ask you this, but I'm going to ask anyway."

"I'll help." Hotch didn't have an excuse for why he and Emily had been so distant. That was his fault, but no elaborate story seemed to be able to justify that. Not now, when his absence had made Emily feel like she'd lost him somehow, like she didn't have a right to ask for his help.

"Thank you. I think we should start making calls. Or do you think it's too late?" Emily asked.

"No, people need to know. But are you going to be okay, though? I mean, enough to get up?"

Emily nodded and swiped carelessly at her messy face. "Yeah," she whispered, moving to get up. Upon standing, she knew she'd done so too quickly, felt an overwhelming dizziness. She grabbed onto an arm that Hotch immediately held out for her. "Thanks."

Hotch tried to think of an easy job for Emily to do. He dug through the kitchen drawers once he sat Emily safely at the dining room table. He found an address book.

"Can you find their parents in there?" Hotch asked, setting the book down in front of Emily, trying to give her something to do.

"Their parents are all…deceased," Emily informed Hotch.

"Oh." Hotch felt terrible for not knowing that, at least about JJ's parents.

"It's okay, she was very private about her family life. I didn't know myself until I just asked her one day. Will has a brother back in Louisiana, though, I think. Let me see if I can find him." Emily sniffled, unaware of the way Hotch looked at her with admiration yet pity as she flipped through the pages to the L section. "Here it is."

Hotch fished his phone out of his pants pocket.

"I can do it," Emily said, really hoping Hotch would insist to do it anyway.

"I don't doubt that you can, but you don't have to. Do you want to go try and get some rest?" Hotch asked.

Emily shook her head. "I feel like I could pass out any second, but at the same time, I know the second I lie down I won't be able to sleep a wink. I'll call Garcia; maybe she can let the rest of the team know."

"I can call the team after I call Will's brother," Hotch offered. "You don't need to do any of this."

Emily nodded. "I do." She rose carefully from her seat, still disoriented, her head swimming, and walked over to Hotch. She gave him a gentle but lingering hug. He embraced her as well, with a little more commitment. "Thank you," Emily said.

"No 'thank you's. Let's just get this over with."

"It's never going to be over," Emily murmured. "We're going to need to call the police and find out what the hell the deal is with CPS, too."

"I can do that."

Emily stared in wonderment at Hotch. The broody man she once thought she knew so well baffled her. She was one of the few privy to the fact that, indeed, Hotch was capable of showing compassion. But this much? "These next few days are going to be the most difficult of my life," she said insightfully. "But they could be worse. Thank you."

"I said, no th—"

Emily glared at Hotch through puffy eyes. "Thank you, Hotch."

**A/N: So you've probably thought of a movie or two this sounds similar to (**_**Raising Waylon**_** and _Life as We Know It_). Yes, the premise is similar. But the story is far more in depth and more emotional than those movies.**

**Please leave a review!  
**


	4. Contact

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily sat on the couch now, rolling her phone pensively between her hands, while she listened to Hotch on his own phone in the other room.

"Hello, is this Harry LaMontagne?" he said. "Yes, I'm so sorry to be calling so late. This is Aaron Hotchner. I used to work with your brother's wife…well, I retired six months ago…Well, I'm calling because, um…" Hotch took in a deep breath and held it, glancing over at Emily and catching her eye. He turned away from her, finding himself unable to look at her right now. He was trying to hold it together himself, and the sight of Emily, soggy-faced and motionless, was too pitiful to bear.

"I'm very sorry to have to tell you this, especially over the phone, but…your brother and his wife were killed in a car accident tonight," Hotch said quietly. Emily watched from the couch as Hotch nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "Yes, I'm very sorry…No, no, the kids weren't with them. They were with JJ's friend, Emily. She was babysitting…They're here with us…Yes, she is Charlotte's godmother, and I'm her godfather…No, we haven't told anyone else yet. We wanted to call family first."

Emily leaned back into the couch, trying to bury herself in the cushions. She set her phone down on the coffee table, knowing what she needed to do but unable to get herself to work the speed dial. Telling another soul what had happened seemed like an impossibility. How could she even put it into words? _JJ and Will are dead. JJ and Will were killed. JJ and Will are deceased. JJ and Will passed away. _Then there was the reason they were summonsing everyone anyway. Did everyone need to come in the middle of the night? What if they woke the children? The last thing a two-year-old needed when he missed his mother was a bunch of practical strangers in his house. But Emily knew that if she were in anyone of her friends' shoes, she would have wanted to know as soon as it had happened. She and Hotch had already sat around avoiding the task for two hours.

"I don't see any other LaMontagnes in their address book," Hotch continued in the other room. "So if there are more family members that need to know…yes, I'm very sorry…Emily and I will be taking care of the funeral arrangements, unless you have any objections…No, absolutely not, we don't mind at all. We were close with both of them," Hotch embellished. "We're willing to help however we can…Yes, you can call me back at this number…You'll be on the first flight out tomorrow? Okay, well, there seems to be plenty of room at their house, but I can also find you a hotel if you'd prefer that…Okay, just let me know. Again, I'm so sorry that the first time we spoke had to be under such circumstances. I'm so sorry for your loss…All right…goodnight."

To Emily, Hotch had never looked more pale or weary when he set his phone on the counter and leaned over it. Not a single one of their cases had drained him more than that phone call. He'd killed people himself. He'd sat in on death notifications, participated in them. She wondered why this was so hard for him. But she didn't wonder for a second why it was so hard for her.

"I thought you were calling Garcia or Reid," Hotch said stonily to the granite countertop.

Emily stood sharply, picked up her phone and stalked into the small office near the back of the house.

"Emily, I didn't mean it like that," Hotch called after her. He really hadn't meant to nag. As far as he was concerned, his offer to make all the calls, do all the work, do anything she felt like she couldn't do, still stood. "Emily…" He walked through the kitchen, across the living room, and into the office. Emily already had the phone against her ear and was seated in the rolling desk chair. "I can do it," Hotch said, holding out his hand for the phone. Emily just shook her head and gazed at the carpeting.

"I'm fine," she said just above a whisper.

"I didn't mean to nag," Hotch said. "I think it came across that way but I wasn't trying to."

"Hotch, it's fine—hey, Garcia…yeah, I know it's really late. I'm sorry…Listen, um…" The floodgates opened wide and Emily's lips disappeared into her mouth as she tried to slow the tears. She jumped suddenly, not expecting a hand to wrap around hers. She looked to see Hotch crouched down next to the chair. His expression was heartrendingly apologetic. She hadn't meant to be short with him. She hoped he hadn't taken it personally.

He had come at a moment's notice and she was taking him for granted. She had stalked out of the room like a bratty child, and here he was, holding her hand through this anyway. "Pen, I need you to come to Will and JJ's house." That was all Emily could get out before she was rendered incapable of speech yet again. She couldn't even manage a "Come as soon as you can." She looked at Hotch imploringly through her fountain of tears and gave up the phone willingly when Hotch reached for it.

"Garcia, it's Hotch. Sorry, Emily's not doing so well…Can you come? I think we'd better talk about it here, not over the phone. Do you think you can call Reid? I'll call Dave and Morgan…Okay, we'll see you soon."

"Here, I can do it," Emily said through tiny gasps, holding out her free hand to get her phone back.

Hotch shook his head and squeezed Emily's other hand, caressing the back of it with his thumb. "It's okay. Give yourself a break, Emily."

Emily shook her head furiously, taking a moment to breathe deeply. "All I've _done," _Emily fumed through a stuffy nose, "is sit around while you take care of everything."

"So what?" Hotch retorted. "Do what you can. It isn't this, and that's fine. You called and asked for my help, did you not?"

Emily looked wounded, but she slowly nodded, running her wrist under her nose.

"Then _let_ me help," Hotch said more gently. Hotch tugged Emily up from the chair and pulled her into a hug that just made her fall apart all over again.

"I can't believe she's gone," Emily sighed before the sobs racked her body again. Hotch's wide hands traveled the length of her back a few while she cried into his shoulder. As if on cue, the baby cried from the living room.

"I need to finish making calls," Hotch said after giving Emily a moment to gather herself. "Can you handle the baby?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah." She sniffed loudly and swiped at her face. "She's probably hungry."

They left the office together. Picking up the baby was a small comfort to Emily, and both their tears abated. Hotch slouched over on the couch to call Rossi and Morgan while Emily prepped a bottle in the kitchen. She took a seat next to Hotch on the couch to feed the baby but tuned him out completely. It wasn't until he reached a hand to squeeze the baby's fingers that Emily remembered Hotch was beside her.

"Assuming Garcia could get a hold of Reid, everyone should be on their way," Hotch said.

Emily nodded. "Thanks again."

"I'm going to get a hold of the police regarding the kids before people start rolling in, okay?"

_The kids._ Emily stared down at Charlotte, who ate like it was her last meal on Earth. "What do you think they're gonna do?" Emily asked.

"Take them, I imagine," Hotch said, trying not to sound cold about it. "Until they figure out guardianship. Unless JJ and Will made some other request, then I'm assuming they'll go to Will's brother, assuming he's willing to take them."

"How could you not take in your own family?" Emily wondered aloud.

"I don't know how close Will and Harry were," Hotch said. "And I don't know what Harry's life situation is like. I don't even know if he's married, has kids himself…" Hotch scratched at his five o'clock shadow as he looked up the number to the local police department.

"Mommy," Henry moaned from the top of the stairs, hanging onto the banister.

"Oh God," Emily muttered under her breath, just loud enough for Hotch to hear. "What do I tell him?"

"Nothing yet," Hotch said decisively. "Hopefully I'll be in touch with some people who know a lot more about this than we do."

"Come on downstairs, honey," Emily called, not wanting to go upstairs with the baby only to travel back downstairs with a toddler underfoot.

Henry fussed the whole way down the stairs, which he took at a backwards crawl. Emily wished she could help him. "I want Mommy," he repeated, toddling over to Emily. "Where Daddy?"

"They're...not home yet," Emily improvised, casting Hotch a sidelong glance. He nodded and pressed his phone to his ear. "Want to come sit up here with us?" She patted the narrow space between her and Hotch, who scooted over to make room for Henry to climb up. The boy nestled into Emily's side, leaning far away from Hotch, whom he obviously didn't recognize. "You don't remember your uncle Aaron?" Emily asked sweetly. Henry shook his head. "He was—he's your mommy and daddy's friend. Like me." This only made Henry cling tighter to Emily. "It's okay, sweetie. He's a very nice man. Hey Hotch," Emily mumbled. "You might want to, uh, make this call elsewhere."

Hotch jumped from the couch, feeling completely stupid for his oversight. He moved into the office and shut the door behind him.

"Once I burp your sister, I'll tuck you back in, okay?" Emily said. Henry didn't respond. A few minutes later she made her way carefully back upstairs, making sure Henry was in front of her the whole way. As she entered Will and JJ's bedroom, which sent chills up and down her spine, she sensed another set of adult footsteps behind her. She glanced back at Hotch with trepidation, almost glad they couldn't discuss the outcome of his phone call right now. Henry lingered at the door, gazing up at Hotch.

"Baby's all right?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah, she's out again," Emily said, placing Charlotte gingerly back into her bassinet. "Let's get you back to bed, Henry," Emily sighed, crouching down and holding her arms out. Henry shook his head and latched unexpectedly onto Hotch's leg. "Mister indecisive," Emily huffed.

"Can I pick you up, Henry?" Hotch asked as he knelt down. Henry didn't answer, but didn't put up any sort of fight when Hotch carried him from the room. Emily straightened Henry's tangled covers over him once Hotch laid him down.

"I want Mommy," Henry said yet again.

Emily couldn't find it in her heart to lie outright to him, even if he was only two. "Go to sleep, sweetie. You're tired."

Henry didn't have any fight left in him and was sleeping before Emily even got a mind to glance up at Hotch. "That was easier than I expected," Emily said as she shut the door behind them.

"You're good with them," Hotch said on the way downstairs.

"It's the middle of the night. Henry's too tired to fight. And the baby's easy. She just needs feeding and changing."

"Not all babies are that easy," Hotch argued, becoming gradually aware of how relaxing it was to have a back-and-forth conversation with Emily with no tears being shed between them. "I was convinced Jack hated me for the entire first year of his life."

"I'm sure that's not true," Emily said. She filled the teakettle on the stove and lit the burner. Chamomile tea sounded like just what the doctor ordered, so she rifled through the cabinets for some. She took out a bag for each of them once she found it.

"I'm not joking," Hotch said, leaning against the fridge with his arms crossed. "Give yourself some credit. You want to have kids someday anyway, right?"

Emily leaned into a corner where two lengths of countertop met and shook her head at Hotch. "It doesn't feel right talking about my plans for the future right now," Emily said. Before Hotch could argue, she asked, "Speaking of Jack, are you going to leave him with the sitter all night?"

"She said she could stay as long as I needed her to, and she's Jack's regular sitter, so if I need to I can."

Emily sighed and addressed the elephant in the room. "What did the police say?"

"They weren't supposed to leave you with the kids. They called CPS on their way back but they were supposed to wait here until CPS arrived. I guess they thought they were cutting you a break somehow." Hotch shrugged.

"Right, by leaving the emotionally unstable woman with a screaming baby and a two-year-old upstairs. So is CPS coming?"

"Yes. They didn't give me an ETA, but I imagine soon."

Emily nodded aloofly, staring at the floor. "I'm sorry about earlier," she said, pointing off in the direction of the office. "I shouldn't have been short with you."

"I shouldn't have nagged," Hotch said dismissively.

"No, you should have, because you've been sitting here doing all the work. You basically made all the calls while I sat there like a deer in headlights," Emily said, meeting Hotch's stare.

"Listen. I was good friends with JJ. But you were much closer to her than I was. You have a right to be distraught. Frankly, I'd be worried if you'd been able to function well enough to be calling everyone. I'm impressed that you tried."

"I just wish I could've done more," Emily went on.

"You tried. And you took care of the kids under all that pressure. I couldn't have done that."

While Emily ignored Hotch's attempt to compliment her, her short-lived conversation with JJ came to the forefront of her mind again. "You know, JJ tried to say something to me a few weeks ago."

Hotch was surprised Emily could even utter JJ's name without getting worked up again. "What about?"

"About the kids," Emily said with a sigh, looking meaningfully at Hotch. "She said, 'If anything ever happens to me and Will' and I cut her off, called her silly. And I never really thought about it again until tonight, because it sounded so silly for her to be talking about that kind of thing. But I wonder if she was…" Emily didn't want to complete the thought. If it was true, that meant her life was about to change even more. If it weren't true, she was afraid she'd feel robbed of the children if they did go to family.

"Planning on leaving Charlotte with one or both of us?" Hotch finished. Emily nodded. "It's possible, but it's also possible she was going to ask you to make sure the kids played soccer or went to church. There's no way to know what she wanted regarding the children until we talk to her lawyer. Find out what they said about the kids in their will."

"Yeah, I suppose." Emily turned at the sound of the teakettle whistling. She dropped the topic. Hotch was right. There was no sense in wondering. They would know soon enough. For now, as Emily fixed her and Hotch each a big mug of tea, Emily felt the urge to go upstairs and hold onto the children until they were wrangled away from her. The responsibility of taking care of them ever since the cops had left had been a million times more daunting than babysitting a brood of twenty children. But suddenly the idea of them being taken away by strangers was bringing out a possessive side of her. She handed Hotch his tea.

"Thanks. Do you…want me to do the talking?"

Emily bit her thumbnail. "I feel okay now, but I also feel like that could change any second."

"We'll work as a team, then. Like we did at the BAU," Hotch said matter-of-factly. "Come here." He held his arms open and Emily walked without question into them. "I know I didn't make an effort to keep in touch once I left, and for that I apologize, but I'm going to be with you every step of the way now. No matter where the kids end up, no matter what."

Emily shocked herself by letting out a sputtering laugh into Hotch's shoulder. "You know, I'm _trying_ to hold it together here. You're gonna make me lose it." And she almost did. She had no idea where the nurturing attitude was coming from. It was like him to provide space to grieving friends, like he had for Emily when she'd found out her friend Matthew had died, or to physically protect them, but he wasn't the nurturing type. She wondered if he felt guilty over something.

"Well, I guess I'll cut it out," Hotch said, rubbing Emily's back once before letting her go. "I think I just heard someone pull up."

Emily sighed, then took a sip of her tea. Thankfully, Hotch knew better than to ask if she was ready.

**A/N: Thanks again for reading - please leave a review if you have a spare second, I really do want to know what you readers think!  
**


	5. Guilty Conscience

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews last time! Here is the next installment.**

**June 2010**

Hotch stood still at his office window, peeking through the blinds and down into the bullpen where, after the announcement he'd made that morning, everything seemed to be happening in slow motion. The steps of his team members didn't have the usual hustle behind them. A few times he caught them just sitting around. On any other day he would have taken some sort of action against this, would have given them each a stern look that would have gotten them working again, but he understood how they felt.

They felt abandoned, shocked, shaken. But none had shown it more than Emily. She'd looked like a damned wounded puppy. He'd made his announcement to the team after their morning briefing, and she'd been out of the room the second he'd dismissed them. He hadn't seen her since, except through his window. Everyone else had dropped by his office at some point during the day to express their combined well wishes and regrets over his departure.

From the looks of it, Emily wasn't planning on making any visit of the sort. Hotch had thought that breaking it to the entire team at once might soften the blow for Emily, make it seem like less of a big deal, or at least might make it less awkward. He'd tried to do right by her, but like most of his endeavors as of late, he'd failed epically. The right thing to do, he knew, was to leave her be, to let her come to him on her own terms. But he hadn't been able to focus all day, not with the image of Emily's shattered countenance emblazoned on the inside of his eyelids. So he stepped out of his office. "Prentiss," he said just loudly enough. She glanced up, then quickly back down at the work she was very obviously pretending to do. "I need to speak with you for a minute."

He felt guilty that she had no choice but to listen—she was still his subordinate, if only for another month—but he needed to talk to her. When she walked into his office without uttering a word, he shut the door. He sat in his own chair, she right across from him, picking at her nails and staring at the wood grain on his desk.

"Emily."

"Yes?"

"What's wrong?"

Emily shrugged, sticking her bottom lip out, very sarcastically feigning ignorance.

"You're upset," Hotch said.

Emily shifted gears. "Why wouldn't I be?" Hotch could feel the pain and anger just in the way Emily sat hunched over, still refusing to look at him when she said this.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't be."

"Good. Can I go, then?"

"Emily," Hotch said, on the verge of pleading.

"Hotch, what do you want me to say?" Their eyes finally met and Emily looked even more anguished than she let on. "That I wished you would have talked to me about it first? Because, you know what, it's not like I have a say in whether you retire," she said matter-of-factly. "So it's fine."

"That doesn't mean I shouldn't have told you I was thinking about it. We're very good friends, and I mistakenly thought it might be easier for you if I broke it to you with the rest of the team."

"Easier for _you_," Emily corrected him. She looked as pissed as the day he'd implied she'd had a political agenda and had gotten into the BAU through such channels.

The deep creases in Hotch's forehead appeared. "You're right. I was being selfish."

"Well, it doesn't really matter anymore, because I know now," Emily said. Her attempt at a sincere expression was almost laughable. "Congratulations. This is a big step in your life. I hope you're excited and I hope it goes well."

Hotch sighed and leaned back in his char, clasping his hands over his stomach. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Emily moved to get up.

"Wait," Hotch said, leaning forward again and holding up a hand to halt her. "I feel like there's something else I've done. Or haven't done. I don't think this is just about my not telling you about my retirement ahead of time." _I _know_ there's something I haven't done. I _know_ this isn't just about my not telling you about my retirement first. I'm not blind. But I'm not ready_, he thought, wishing he could say it aloud.

Emily's face became less harsh, but she didn't look any less hurt, just less angry with him. "We're fine, Hotch. No harm, no foul."

"I don't believe you."

"I have to get back to work."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily and Hotch arrived at the front door together right before a knock sounded. Both wondered who it was. Was it a friend? Or was it someone coming to take the children away?

"Garcia," Emily said upon opening the door, seeing another one of her best friends clad in pink pajamas, a purple parka, and white snow boots. Snow was indeed coming down outside, now. They hadn't had any in over two weeks, which was quite unseasonable for February.

Garcia looked like she'd seen a ghost. "What's going on?" she asked as she stepped inside. "Why are we at Will and JJ's but one of their cars is gone?" She sounded like she knew, but needed telling. Emily eyed Hotch, her lips in a taut line across her tearstained cheeks.

"They were killed in a car accident," Emily said to Garcia. She was surprised she'd been able to say it, and coldness with which her sentence rang unnerved her.

Garcia's lips quivered but were soon covered by her hands. "Wh—what? How? When? I—"

"I don't know any details on the accident," Emily said. "But they—" she started to choke up again. Hotch took a breath but she put a hand on his briefly, signaling to him that she would keep trying. "—the officers who came said they died instantly. They didn't experience any pain." A few tears flowing down her cheeks again, Emily followed Garcia into the living room; she clearly needed to sit down.

Hotch followed behind Emily, and both took a seat on the couch while Garcia sat at the edge of the recliner. Emily didn't know what else to say as Garcia's body began to convulse and fold over. Emily wondered whether this was how pitiful she'd looked to Hotch. She got up and put an arm over Garcia's back. "What do I say?" she mouthed helplessly to Hotch while Garcia wept. Emily knew Garcia was the most sensitive of them all—she worried she could have broken it to Garcia in some better way, more gently.

"Garcia," Hotch stepped in, "you know, I don't really know if there's anything I can say that would help. Is there anything I can get you, though? Tea, maybe?"

Garcia seemed to contemplate this, or just took a moment to process what Hotch had asked her. "Tea—would—be great," she managed through miniature gasps. As Hotch left the women for the kitchen, Emily looked over her shoulder after him. "Thank you," she mouthed when he turned around at the counter top to reach for another mug.

Hotch nodded somberly.

Emily stood instinctively when Garcia did, staring at her with her mouth hanging open, praying for someone to tell her what to do. Hotch had helped her, had held her tight while she cried like a baby. It was her turn to help someone else. And she'd never felt more useless.

"Can we, um—go somewhere—private for a minute?" Garcia asked Emily.

Without question, Emily nodded and guided Garcia by a hand on her back to the office. She shut the door behind them. The two mourning women embraced, one thinking she might just cry forever, and the other realizing how scary it was to see someone she loved in so much pain.

"Sorry, I just—" Garcia drew away from Emily after several minutes, squeezing her nose with one hand and fanning her eyes with the other. "I didn't want to break down in front of Hotch. I know he's not my boss anymore, and I know I've cried in front of him before, but—you know—he's just so intimidating sometimes."

Emily didn't find it prudent to argue with Garcia over that, to tell her how empathetic and caring he'd been, how much of a help he'd been to her. Maybe because she'd had absolutely no idea where it had all come from. "I understand."

"So, JJ's…"

Emily nodded, a couple more tears rushing from her eyes. "Yeah," she breathed. "I still can't believe it, either, in a way. I mean, I'm the one who found out, I'm the one the cops came and told, I'm the one who's sat around crying for three hours now, but I still—"

"It happened three hours ago?" Garcia cut in.

Emily cursed at herself. "Yeah, I—"

"Why didn't you call me sooner?" Garcia asked. And not in a supportive way. It was obvious to Emily that she'd deeply offended Garcia.

"I didn't know how," Emily murmured, reaching for Garcia's hand. Garcia didn't draw it away like Emily thought she might, but she didn't hold Emily's hand back. She just left her hand hanging slack.

"Was Hotch here with you when you found out?"

"No." Emily knew where this was going and she didn't like it, but only had herself to blame.

"So you knew how to call _him_."

"Pen, it's nothing personal—"

"Is there something going on between you two?" On any normal day, this type of question would have been accompanied by a sneaky or excited smile. Not today.

"No, nothing like that. It was just, he was the first person I thought of, and he's Charlotte's godfather."

"And I'm Henry's godmother. And Reid's his godfather. You know what?" Garcia took off her glasses and set them on the desk so she could wipe her eyes. "I don't want to fight right now. This isn't about me or Reid or Hotch or you. It's about JJ."

"You're right. But I am really sorry, Pen."

"Where are the kids?" Garcia asked.

"Upstairs, sleeping," Emily answered.

"I'm gonna go check in on them," Garcia said, grabbing her glasses. "And don't worry about it. I…" Garcia stopped to gather herself for a moment. "I get it." She simply glanced at the office door. "I understand." She then left Emily alone.

When Emily went to join Hotch in the kitchen, she found that they had new visitors. Rossi, Reid, Morgan, and Hotch stood solemnly around the table, ignoring the chairs. Hotch caught Emily's eye as she joined them, but she just shook her head.

**A/N: Please leave a review if you have a moment to spare. :)**


	6. Revelations

**A/N: Thanks for everyone who's reading!  
**

**July 2010**

"Prentiss." Emily started at the sound of Hotch's deep, rolling voice behind her. She turned her head slightly merely to acknowledge his presence, then went back to looking at the odd selection of hors doeuvres on the buffet table. "Are you ignoring me?" He wasn't slurring his words yet, but Emily had been drunk with him enough times to know he had a few in him.

Suddenly not hungry, Emily put her empty plate back where she found it and turned sharply on her heel, her straight hair whipping around her neck. She knew full well that Hotch would follow her wherever she went, so she made sure it was in a quiet corner of the banquet hall, which the rest of the team had rented out for Hotch's retirement party.

"Prentiss," Hotch said once more, trying to soften his face when he saw that Emily was taking a seat that would result in her finally facing him.

"What do you want, Hotch?" she asked calmly from her safe little corner. To Hotch, she looked a couple years older than she did just a month ago. She didn't look quite as healthy and vibrant as she normally did. She was still stunning, sure—the woman could not wear a little black dress wrong if she tried—but something about her appearance made her look like she wasn't taking care of herself. Instead of detracting from her beauty, though, this worn look added a sense of desperation that made her even more irresistible to the eyes. Though he knew he couldn't touch, he couldn't keep himself from looking, too.

"You look nice," he said, more as one word than three.

"Thanks," she said, sounding anything but sincerely appreciative. "What do you really want?"

"You've been avoiding me for the last month," Hotch said, taking the seat across from Emily.

"You've been calling me _Prentiss_ for the last month," she countered. Despite her desire to lash out at him, she was poised. She maintained good posture and placed her hands gently in her lap, sitting like she had been trained to do as a child at the few important events she was allowed to attend.

Hotch rolled his eyes back into his head, pondering—not skeptical, but honestly wondering. "Have I?"

"Yes."

"Okay, well, you've been ignoring me for the last month, _Emily_." Hotch raised an eyebrow and his glass, letting the last of his scotch slip out and between his lips, which lifted playfully at their corners.

"I don't want to do this right now, Hotch." Emily shook her head resolutely and her eyes drifted shut.

"Do what?"

"Whatever it is you're trying to start. A discussion. A fight. I don't want to be a part of it. So you can just go." Emily tucked her hair back behind her ear, not quite so confident all of a sudden, but she was sure as hell trying. He truly did rattle her sometimes. Lately, pretty much all the time.

Whatever hint of a smile that had played at Hotch's lips disappeared. "I don't want to fight with you. I just want to know what's wrong."

Emily's red lips disappeared, rolled inward, while her eyes widened in an attempt to remain dry. "This isn't the time or the place."

Hotch frowned. "Then when would be good for you, and where?"

"Don't get pissy with me," Emily said. "I'm not the one who's up and leaving."

"I'm leaving the BAU. I'm not leaving _you_. I'll still be around here."

Emily's lashes batted frantically and she felt a blush creeping from her cheeks to her chest. "I trusted you."

Hotch's hazel eyes betrayed him. He'd wanted to look surprised, but his look instead, he knew, told Emily he'd known what he had coming.

"I'm sor—"

"I trusted you with things I never even told JJ or Garcia," Emily said only loud enough for Hotch's ears. He had to lean in to hear her properly, even though he didn't want to. He would have rather pretended none of this was happening. Pretending sounded nice. _He didn't need to leave. He didn't need to leave _her_. She wasn't angry. She knew how he felt. He was allowed to feel that way._ _They could be together._

"I know—" he tried, only to be cut off again.

"And now you're just going. And it still hurts every time I think about how you told me when you told everyone else. I don't know, maybe that's petty, but I really thought we were better friends than that."

"We are. We're best friends. I remember the discussion when you told me you were allowed to have more than one best friend."

"Well, you treated me like…" Emily realized her hand was shaking like a leaf, so she tucked it back under the table.

"Shit?"

Emily nodded.

"Emily, I swear, I didn't mean to hurt you. I was just trying to…you're right, what you said after I told everyone. I was trying to take the easy way out. I was thinking of myself more than I was thinking of you. But I _swear_ I thought it might be good for you too if I didn't make a big deal of it."

"How?"

"I…" Hotch paused and shrugged helplessly. "I don't even remember what my reasoning was. But it was wrong. I'm sorry. I really am."

"I forgive you."

Hotch's forehead wrinkled. "You do?" He sounded skeptical. _Was_ skeptical. Emily never gave in this easily. In fact, the entire time he'd been friends with her, she'd never once said she'd forgiven him for something. She _had_ forgiven him, many times. Hotch knew. But she'd never said it.

"You say your intention wasn't to hurt me. If I can believe that then I can't be mad at you."

"And you believe that? I mean, not that you shouldn't believe that..."

"I want to. So I guess that's as good as the real thing. See you around."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Are you okay?" Emily felt her surroundings melting, _saw_ them melting. No, swimming. Morgan had suggested they all join hands, had said that he would like to say a prayer. All of them—save for Garcia, who was still upstairs—had gladly obliged, fingers interlacing through fingers as each one of them grieved in their own way while listening to Morgan's prayer. For some, it still hadn't sunk in. Others, Emily among them, had drifted off into space, most likely focusing on memories of someone or something else, just to get their minds off the loss they were already fatigued from facing. Emily at first wasn't sure why Hotch's retirement party was worth thinking about.

What had triggered Morgan to stop mid-prayer? Why was he asking Emily if she was okay?

How he spoke so eloquently to a God from whom he'd been estranged for years, Emily had no idea, but it had her knees quake, had caused her to let go of his hand, and Reid's on the other side, so she could grab the back of the chair in front of her. That was why he'd stopped, she realized. That was why all eyes were on her.

"Emily," Morgan's smooth voice sounded out. Emily's ears were plugging up from the congestion, but she recognized the rhythm of her name.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "I think I just need to sit." At this, Morgan was pulling out the kitchen chair in front of Emily while Reid held her arm supportively. "Thanks," she said once she was seated. Hotch and Rossi looked on solemnly from across the table at the sight of their two crying friends helping the third. It was almost a relief to focus their attentions on something, someone, besides JJ and Will.

Morgan stroked the top of Emily's head, moving some hair over to fix her part. He then leaned over from behind her and put an arm in front of her, from one of her shoulders to the other. She rested her chin on his forearm and it gratefully. "I'm sorry," he said. Emily nodded before truly weeping again.

His voice sounded much closer when he spoke again, and when Emily opened her eyes and peered through the cascade of tears, she saw he was crouched down next to her. She leaned forward just slightly into his open arms, her face oriented toward Hotch when she laid one cheek against Morgan's chest. There was some new dimension of hurt in his eyes. _Guilt?_ she considered._ No_…

"I need to go talk to Garcia," Emily said suddenly. Her own words sounded to her like she was talking underwater.

"Is there anything we can do for you?" Rossi asked Emily.

She shook her head quickly to and fro. "No. No, this isn't about me. I appreciate it, but I'm sure this hurts every one of you as much as it hurts me," she managed to get out all in one breath. "I'm just showing it differently." She pulled away from Morgan after giving him one quick, tight hug. "If you guys are going to keep praying, pray for the kids. I don't know…I just have a really bad feeling. We need to make sure they're safe. I have no idea what's going to happen to them, where they're gonna go…" She ignored everyone else's gazes as she headed toward the stairs.

"Still hasn't…" Rossi wasn't sure how to finish his sentence. His eyes were red and puffed.

"Sunk in?" Reid asked.

"Yeah," Rossi replied.

"Trust me. You don't want it to," Hotch said.

Reid obviously felt self-conscious about it, but the tears like those of a tormented child spilled down his cheeks. He wiped each one away as it fell. "I think you're right, Hotch," he said, having to cough to clear his throat afterward.

Emily found Garcia sitting on the edge of her godson's bed. "Hey," Emily breathed. Henry was sleeping peacefully under blankets Garcia had obviously just straightened over him.

Emily seemed to have found the one person in the house as broken as she was. "Hi," Garcia whispered back, using a tissue to make futile blots under her eyes; her glasses were stashed in the pocket of her parka that she still hadn't removed.

"Garcia, I need you to know that I'm truly sorry. Not to draw attention from this situation, which I'm sure we can agree is much more pressing, but I think you'd hurt less if you knew I really didn't mean anything by it. By calling Hotch first."

"You're right," Garcia said shakily. "JJ and Will and the kids _are_ much more important than that." She didn't sound hurt, at least not by Emily's slip-up. Not anymore. She just needed to mourn.

"It didn't mean what you think it meant," Emily pressed on, even though it was clear to her that Garcia would rather not be talking at all. About anything. But Emily couldn't let anyone get the wrong impression. Not at a time like this. Not when their friends were dead, when thinking of feelings or non-feelings for a man sounded so disgusting she could hardly bear it.

Garcia rolled her lips in and out before saying, "Emily, it's okay. I see it. And if he's what you want—"

"Garcia, _no_. That's what I'm trying to say. Hotch and me," she said, lowering her voice. "There's nothing there. We're just friends, if that, anymore."

Garcia nodded. She didn't ask about the "If that, anymore," for which Emily was grateful.

"Please nod like you actually believe me," Emily said, sitting down gingerly next to Garcia on Henry's bed while the toddler slept through the conversation.

Garcia relented. "I've seen you guys together, and it makes sense. I don't think you're…not interested."

"That doesn't matter, because he's not capable of being in a relationship. I found out the hard way that he's kind of a coward. Not really trustworthy, not dependable. He's selfish." Where were these words coming from? Had she really been bottling up that much bitterness over the last seven months? Yes, she decided. She had been. Completely separate from missing him dreadfully came, once in a while, but not always, tempting thoughts of how she'd stand up for herself, how she'd tell him off. How she'd tell him that what he'd done had truly broken her heart.

She'd missed him enough to call, but the outpour of brutal honesty to Garcia just now made her realize what a mistake that had been. And it made it that much easier to say, "For some reason, I don't know why, he was the first person I thought of. But it stops there. I promise you that. It wasn't about me and him, or anything like that. It was just kind of random." She searched for Garcia's eyes in the dark. "And that's the end of that discussion. You and I are gonna need each other to get through this."

Garcia nodded and scooted closer to Emily before they embraced. "Yeah, we are."

"I'm sorry that this became about anyone but JJ and Will and the kids. That's enough pain right there to last a lifetime. You shouldn't have to feel slighted because I'm an idiot."

"You're not an idiot, honey. You're human."

Emily rubbed Garcia's back in long, swooshing strokes as she sensed the onslaught of fresh tears from both of them. "Can we put this behind us? Can you forgive me?"

Garcia pulled away from Emily's arms. "Even if I wanted to be mad at you, which I don't, not a bit," she said with more seriousness than she usually displayed on her gravest of days at work, "I would not have the emotional energy to be angry at anyone. I love you, and you're right, we need each other."

Emily nodded and sniffled. "I love you, too." She found a hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze.

Garcia gazed over at Henry. "What do you think is going to happen to the kids?"

"I have no idea," Emily said. "I guess we'll know once we get in touch with JJ and Will's lawyers. I don't know anything about this kind of stuff."

The doorbell chimed.

"Who else did you call? Strauss? 'Cause they didn't have family around here…did they?"

Emily rose quickly and strode off to JJ and Will's bedroom.

"Em?" Garcia found Emily removing Charlotte from her bassinet with the utmost care.

"They're here for the kids."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! I really appreciate reviews, so if you could leave one, I'd be super duper grateful. Let me know what you're thinking!**


	7. Not Alone

**December 2007**

"Hotch, wait up," Emily called after Hotch. While the rest of the team had stopped dead in their tracks after Hotch was served his and Haley's divorce papers, Emily followed him. He was waiting at the elevator.

Hotch didn't respond, just pressed the call button again.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Emily asked.

"Not particularly," Hotch said somberly, tucking the manila envelope underneath his arm. Hotch was nearly always broody, but rarely showed this unadulterated graveness. Whether he was angry, sad, or scared, he usually displayed some sort of balance in his demeanor. What Emily saw now wasn't like the Hotch she knew at all.

"Well…then…let's go have a drink." Emily and Hotch were good enough friends to where this didn't sound like a come-on to either one of them. "I can drive you home if you want to get hammered," she offered.

"I should just go straight home," Hotch said.

"Jack is with Haley," Emily said. "I…" Emily took one step forward so she could look Hotch in the eye. He resisted at first, staring at the floor, but eventually relented and met her gaze. "I don't think you should be alone right now," Emily said truthfully. She didn't think Hotch was a suicide risk, but she cared enough about him to hate the idea of him driving home and drinking himself to sleep all alone, which is what she was sure he would do. "This is rough. You just shouldn't be alone. You don't have to be. At least one drink," she persisted. "And if you want, you can drink your heart out. And we don't have to talk. But if you want to talk, we can. Just don't go straight home."

"Why are you doing this?" Hotch asked as the elevator arrived and the doors opened.

"Because we're friends." Emily waited until the elevator sealed them in, then, for the first time, she approached Hotch and gave him a hug, wrapping her arms around his neck and smoothing a hand over his upper back. Clearly caught off guard, Hotch returned her hug with one arm. "You'll come?" she pleaded after she backed away, clearing her throat.

Hotch shrugged, his face expressionless. He wondered about Emily—had been thinking about her a lot lately, actually. Once Haley had left with Jack, Hotch had found that he'd had a little more free time, and eventually he'd started calling Emily when he was down to see if she wanted to grab a drink. He wasn't sure what had originally drawn him to Emily as a new friend, but she worked. She listened when he just needed someone to listen, talked some sense into him when he was irrational. She was a good friend. To him, asking her to get a drink had been just like asking Rossi to go have a beer with him. It wasn't like it could be considered cheating. Everything was relative. He was certain Haley had been seeing someone else before she'd left him. All he was doing was hitting up the bar with a female friend. It was innocent. But Emily's hug made him not so sure now. "Might as well."

—

Emily watched pitifully as Hotch threw back his fourth shot. He'd barely said a word since they had sat down at a corner booth in the bar closest to work. This didn't surprise Emily much. She hadn't expected Hotch to open up. In fact, she was surprised Hotch had even disclosed to the rest of the team why he'd been served. He talked to her more than anyone, she suspected, but the topic of Haley seemed to have its own special rules. It was the elephant in the room every time she sat down with Hotch. He would talk to her about Jack, about work, but not about Haley.

Emily foresaw that this would turn into Hotch getting completely trashed, so she signaled to the waitress for a couple more shots.

"Pace yourself," Emily said once Hotch downed the first and reached for the other. She covered the latter with her hand. "You're already messing with being able to wake up in the morning."

Hotch looked at Emily helpless eyes. "I don't want to wake up in the morning. Can I have that now, please?"

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily's feet carried her slowly back to the living room, where she lowered herself onto the couch.

No one followed her for a moment. They all remained lingering in the kitchen. Once the tears worked their way out again, though, Hotch was sitting down next to her. "Hey, they'll be okay." He placed a hand over hers on her knee. A few hours ago this would have sent her spinning, but at the moment it was slightly repulsive.

"I just want to be alone." Emily snatched her hand away and retreated toward the stairs. Garcia, finally out of her outwear, stopped whatever quiet conversation she was having with the others and was soon close at Emily's heels. She found her seated on a toilet in the upstairs half bathroom.

"Hotch is right, you know," Garcia said shakily. "The kids will be okay."

"This is all so…_fucked up_." Emily moaned in despair and dragged her fingers through her hair. "I keep waiting to wake up and find out this was all a dream, even though I know it's not." She had visions of JJ and Will sitting dead in their car, suddenly. She hadn't thought about that yet. The idea of them being dead, the knowledge that she'd never see JJ again—that was all she'd thought off for the last few hours. She resented whatever or whomever it was that put the actual vision of their lifeless bodies in her head. _Twist that knife, why don't you?_

"You know what I think?" Garcia said rather assertively.

"What?"

"I think you need to lie down. You need rest. Instead of worrying about anyone else."

"That sounds amazing, but I don't think even an entire bottle of sleeping pills could knock me out right now."

"Just try." Garcia held out a hand. "Even if it just means you lie in bed and cry, it's more comfortable than a toilet seat. And you can shut the door and pretend you're sleeping, so Hotch won't bother you." Garcia gave Emily a knowing look.

Emily saw the sense in this and took Garcia's hand. They walked into the dark guest bedroom and flipped on the lights. Emily turned back the heavy duvet cover and expensive sheets. Once she was secure under the covers, Garcia sat on the edge of the bed and squeezed Emily's shoulder.

An overwhelming feeling of oddness struck Emily. She was usually the calm one, the strong one, and here Garcia was comforting _her_, when she had also lost her best friend, the glue that held them all together. None of this made sense. Emily did hear Garcia sniffling, which, as selfish as it seemed, put her at ease. At least she wasn't the only one who couldn't make it five minutes without a meltdown.

"Do you feel sleepy?" Garcia asked.

"A little," Emily admitted. Her body was going slightly numb and her eyelids were heavy.

"Good." Garcia walked around to the other side of the bed and climbed in. "I'll stay, at least until you fall asleep." She lay on her side, facing Emily, who was curled up in the fetal position.

"You don't need to, Pen."

"You shouldn't be alone right now," Garcia insisted. "Come here." They met in the middle of the bed and Garcia fished around for a hand. She locked fingers with Emily. "You must be beat."

Emily closed her eyes and nodded against the downy pillow.

"Sleep, my angel."

And sleep came surprisingly easily to Emily. Garcia kept her word and made sure Emily was out before she left the room, quietly shutting the door behind her. She didn't weep until she found Morgan downstairs. The men were seated around the living room now, and Morgan had saved Garcia a spot right next to him. She nestled into his open arm before breaking down. After a while, she became aware of her surroundings again and felt someone's eyes on her. Hotch's look pleaded for information. "You know," Garcia said to them all, "I think everyone should go." She made eye contact with each one of them, but for a little longer with Hotch. "I'll stay with Emily."

**December 2007**

Hotch's eyes were beyond bloodshot when Emily pulled up to his building around three in the morning. They'd been not so politely asked to leave the bar when it had closed. "Lucky it's Saturday now, huh?" Emily said.

Hotch just grunted. He grabbed for the door handle a few times before he actually found it. When he tripped on the curb getting out of the car and nearly fell, Emily turned off her car and strode over to the passenger side. "Come on." She grabbed his briefcase from the backseat.

"I'm fine," he said crankily.

"Give me your keys. I'll help you inside," Emily said.

Hotch had a hard time finding his pocket, too. But eventually Emily, key in hand, got Hotch into his apartment. "Go to bed."

"Emily. I'm…" Hotch rubbed at his temples. Emily assumed he was going to finish his sentence with "fine."

"Don't be ridiculous. Go to bed. I'll be there in a second." She realized this had come out wrong, and not in a funny way. Not now. "I'm gonna get you some water and some ibuprofen."

Hotch nodded, just barely, kicked off his shoes, and plodded off down the hall. He was slipping off his tie when Emily knocked on his doorjamb. "Decent?" she asked.

"In what sense of the word?" he said dryly. Emily was surprised he could come up with anything remotely witty right now. She was also shocked that he was still standing up on his own.

"Here," she said, setting down the pills and glass of water on Hotch's nightstand as he started to unbutton his shirt. "Call me if you need anything."

**A/N: Thanks for reading...please review if you have a moment. :)**


	8. Out of Nowhere

**A/N: I hope you're all enjoying the format of the story, and that you understand how the flashbacks are tying in with the present day material. Future flashbacks will reveal the answers to a lot of the questions you probably have right now, but it will take time!  
**

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

The first thing Emily did upon waking only a few hours after she'd fallen asleep was venture groggily to the bathroom. She didn't even get that one precious yet evil moment after waking where she'd forgotten everything awful from before she'd drifted off to sleep. All she'd _done_ while she'd slept was dream about JJ and her own future without her. She'd had barely articulate dreams, as she usually did—she rarely ever tried to explain her asinine dreams to anyone because it often earned her odd looks—but the prevailing theme was quite obvious this time. JJ was gone. At least it saved her the disappointment of thinking the day was like any other, only to be crushed to pieces a second later.

The mirror in the bathroom showed her the face of a woman at the very least ten years older than the one she'd seen yesterday. She splashed some cold water on it, then wiped off what was left of her makeup with a tissue. Her hair could wait. Everything could wait.

All she saw when she finally made her way with heavy feet downstairs was Garcia curled up on the sofa under a few blankets, clearly getting some much-needed shut-eye. No one else was to be seen. The absence of people to talk to tempted Emily to go back to bed, but somehow she wasn't tired. This was good, she thought, as there was a lot that needed to be done. She needed to get in touch with Will's brother and find out when he was coming in. She needed to contact JJ and Will's lawyer so she could find out what was to happen with the children. She needed to call the police and, as much as she _didn't_ want to think about how the accident had happened, she did at the same time. She needed to know. Surely, their insurance company would need to be involved somehow. And finally, funeral arrangements needed to be made. Emily started to write these things down, and by the time her list was finished she wasn't sure how she would be able do it all. Sure, she would have help, but did she want it? Before she could decide if she wanted to delegate tasks to Hotch after all, her phone rang. She hurried to find it before it roused Garcia.

"Hotch," she whispered. "Where did everyone go?" She scurried into the office and shut the door behind her.

"Home. Do you need me to come back? I can," he said eagerly.

"No." Her answer came out almost before Hotch had finished asking. "I just…" She eyed her to-do list and felt sick that, less than twelve hours after the death of her friends, she had a to-do list written down on how to go about her day, and all of it involved thinking about them. She just wanted to hide. "I have a list of things I need to get done."

"_We_, you mean," Hotch said.

"Yeah, well, anyway…can you get started on funeral arrangements? I'll take care of contacting the police about the accident, then getting in touch with their lawyer. We need to know what to do about the kids. Whatever else is in their will I don't give a shit about right now. And I'll find out when Will's brother will be getting in."

"Of course. That's a lot of stuff on your plate. Are you sure you don't want me to take one of those?" Hotch asked.

"I'll let you know if I need more help. Just…get started on the funeral arrangements if you can. I'll talk to their lawyer first to see if they had cemetery plots, or wanted to be cremated…I think I'm going to be sick." She honestly did. She had to sit down and lean backwards to ward off the nausea.

"Just take a deep breath." Emily did. "You okay?"

"I will be. I'm gonna go now. I have a lot to do."

"Is Garcia still there?" Hotch asked. He didn't want to let Emily go yet, even though he knew he had a busy, exhausting day ahead of him. He'd already informed Strauss that the whole team would be taking at least a couple of days, so at least that was taken care of. But it was only seven in the morning and he already didn't know how he'd get through the day in one piece. He felt guilty that Emily was only handing off one task to him, even if it was a big one. He wasn't certain she would be able to handle everything left on her list.

"Yeah, she's sleeping. I've gotta go now."

"All right. Just, please let me know if I can help with anything else."

"Yeah." She sighed. "Bye."

A soft tap sounded at the door. Emily opened it. "Oh, sorry, I tried not to wake you."

Garcia, hair tousled and makeup smeared, stood in the doorway. "Please. Just give me something to do."

—

"Their lawyer wants to meet with you, me, Hotch and Reid at two," Emily informed Garcia upon hanging up her phone. "What time does Harry's flight come in?"

"Noon. Did their attorney request that Harry come, too?"

Emily's forehead crinkled. "No, just us four. I wonder if that was a mistake."

"There's a possibility that there's nothing in the will that concerns him," Garcia said. "Maybe we should just wait until after we meet. If Will and Harry had a bad relationship, I'd rather not know or get involved."

"Good point," Emily said wearily. She rubbed her tired, puffy eyes. "Who's he bringing with him?"

"No one. I guess he's single. Either that, or he and Will weren't close enough to warrant Harry bringing his whole family with him."

"Odd. Okay, one of us needs to get in touch with the police and deal with the details of the accident. It's the only thing left on the list. Can you pick Harry up from the airport? I guess it's the least we can do. No matter what kind of relationship they had, he still lost his brother."

"Of course. I can pick him up before the meeting and get in touch with the police. If I want to get into real clothes and make it to the airport on time, I'll need to leave now. Are you going to be okay alone?"

"Yeah. I can do the police thing, though—"

"But you don't have to. I will."

Emily couldn't refuse that offer. "Thank you." She pulled her greasy, mussed hair into a ponytail. She desperately wanted a shower, but time was of the essence today. She couldn't fathom taking even five minutes to do anything for herself. "I'll be fine. Thanks for all your help."

"Emily, this isn't only your burden to bear. Don't think of it as me helping you. Think of it as us helping JJ." Garcia said, tears welling up at the mention of JJ's name. "Are you going to stay here or go home before the meeting?"

"I'd better head home. I need to change, too."

"Want to walk out with me?"

"Oh, no, I'm not quite ready yet." She didn't offer any sort of explanation. "But I'll text you the address of the attorney's office. Can you let Reid know?"

"Sure thing. Do you have a copy of their key?" Garcia asked as she put her coat back on. Emily nodded. "Okay. Bye, honey. Come here. Give me a hug." Emily grinned softly and hugged Garcia with vigor. "I love you, sweetie."

"I love you, too," Emily replied. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do—"

"Stop it." Garcia couldn't help but hug Emily just once more. "I'll see you in a few hours. Let me know if you need anything." She stepped into her boots and walked out into the freshly fallen snow.

Emily knew she needed to get a hold of Hotch and let him know about the meeting, and none of this was something that could be properly dealt with via text message or email. She purposely hadn't asked Garcia to do it because she wanted to appear like she had a hold of herself. And she knew if she couldn't stand a simple conversation with Hotch—who, in all actuality, was acting nothing like the man he was seven months ago—then she wouldn't be able to tough it out through the next few days. And she'd handled a few minutes of him early that morning. She'd listened to his attempts to somehow make it up to her, to gain her trust back. She'd fought back the urge to call him out, to make this about them. If she could do that, she could do this. Maybe his actions toward her months ago were inexcusable, but that was neither here nor there. Besides, it had taken a random flashback for the hurt to broadside her again. Maybe it would subside. Maybe they could move on in peace and harmony soon. It was this glimmer of hope that allowed her to dial him up.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Hotch." Emily didn't identify herself.

"How is everything going on your end? Is everything taken care of?"

"You, Garcia, Reid and I have to meet with Will and JJ's attorney at noon. Garcia's picking up Harry at the airport, and I'm assuming dropping him off at the hotel."

"He's not meeting the attorney with us?" Hotch asked, just as surprised as Garcia had been.

"They didn't mention him, so he might not be in the will."

"Which means the kids…"

"I can't think about that right now, Hotch." She rarely called him by his nickname outside of work—not when they had been closer, anyway. Emily pinched her forehead until it hurt and stared at the floor, eyes clenched shut. "Can we just wait until we find out what's going on before we terrify ourselves with those kinds of thoughts?"

"Of course. You're right. I'm sorry. What about dealing with the police? Do you need me to do that?"

"No, Garcia's going to take care of it." The conversation so far was rather dry. Not hostile, not like Emily expected it to go. Just devoid of the drama and tension between them that she'd expected. It felt like they were discussing what to order for lunch and were hung up on where to order from. "How are things going with the…" She couldn't say it now.

"Smoothly. Some of it does need to wait until we meet with their attorney, but I've set it for Thursday morning."

Emily drew in a giant breath. "Thursday."

"Is there something wrong with Thursday?" Hotch asked hastily. "I can change it."

"No, no. It's just that…Thursday, I'll be saying goodbye."

"Listen, Emily. You don't have to be alone this week. Do you need a place to stay? We have a guest bedroom."

"Since when?" Emily asked, her heart sinking while she ignored Hotch's offer for the time being.

"I bought a house last month. I didn't tell you?"

"No. You didn't."

Hotch paused before speaking. "I could've sworn I did."

"How could you have? You've barely talked to me the last seven months, for God knows what reason." There it came. The emotion. The anxiety. All brought on by him. She was struggling to keep this about JJ. "You know what, never mind. I don't care. No, I don't want to stay at your house. Thank you for the offer, but I'll be fine on my own. I'll send you the address to the attorney's office. See you there." She hung up before giving Hotch a chance to answer. Nagging guilt along with a feeling of immaturity consumed her immediately. This wasn't how she and Hotch had ever dealt with things. The few times they walked away from an argument on bad terms were times she liked to forget.

**May 2010**

"Emily!" a four-year-old Jack shrieked as his favorite person besides his dad, and _maybe_ his aunt, entered the Hotchner apartment with a bag of take-out food and a movie in hand.

"Hi, sweetie," Emily said as Hotch locked up the door behind her. She crouched down to give Jack a hug. When she tried to stand, though, Jack wouldn't release his arms from around her neck.

"Pick me up!" he demanded.

"Jack, don't be rude," Hotch scolded. "Apologize to Emily right now."

"Aaron, it's okay—"

Hotch eyed Emily reproachfully. "No, it's not."

Emily wanted to defend Jack's innocent actions, but knew better than to think it was anyone's call but Hotch's. She didn't want to step on his toes.

"Sorry, Emily," Jack murmured as he released his hold on her.

"I forgive you," she said, playing along.

—

"I can't have you undermining me like that," Hotch said immediately upon his return to the living room after putting Jack to bed. Suddenly his home felt a lot like his office.

Emily stopped her handful of popcorn in midair. "I'm…sorry. I didn't mean to." The evening of Thai food and a movie had turned out to be rather miserable, neither one of them talking about Hotch's little outburst, but both of them thinking of nothing else.

"I appreciate you being here. I enjoy your company, and Jack enjoys your company, but I have to draw the line there," he said sternly, not reclaiming his spot on the couch.

Emily dropped her popcorn back in the bowl, her eyes widening in awe. "Where is this coming from?" Her stomach lurched. She didn't handle tiffs with Hotch very well. She usually enjoyed a good argument with just about anyone, but something about her and Hotch almost always being on the same page kept her balanced, comfortable, despite whatever else might be plaguing her on any given day. Whenever that consistency wasn't present, she was thrown out of whack until they mended things. Now that they were closer than ever, now that it seemed likely that things would progress between them, Hotch's flare-up had even more of a jarring effect on her. Moving on to the next step was scary enough without Hotch acting inexplicably strange.

Hotch shrugged, but not apologetically. More so in a manner that suggested he expected Emily to know the answer. But really, he didn't. He barely knew himself why he'd snapped at her. Not until he really thought about it.

"Look, I'm sorry if I touched a nerve. I didn't mean to undermine your authority. I swear. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." She held up two hands in surrender and looked at him with intense worry written all over her face. She felt it even more than she showed.

Feeling the need to calm down, Hotch closed his eyes and nodded. His best friend of almost three years was obviously stung by his lashing out at her, and he certainly couldn't blame her, but he couldn't help it. Things were going too far, too fast. She still never came by unannounced, still didn't usually invite herself over, however she _had _been known to come over in sweatpants from time to time, or to bring a toy for Jack once in a while. Hotch cared about her deeply, and maybe in a way that he had never intended to—no, _definitely _in a way he had never intended to—but he wasn't anywhere near ready. Things were getting too comfortable, were pointing in a direction that Hotch couldn't see himself taking, not yet anyway. But he feared that Emily was thinking and pushing in that direction. He wasn't angry with her, though. His frustration had just happened to come out in the simplest of mistakes. In fact, it hadn't been a mistake, not once he thought about it. Jack hadn't been acting like a brat. He was simply showing affection toward Emily, whom he'd grown to trust and admire, as she'd been coming over much more since Haley's death. Emily had had a right to defend Jack. He owed her an apology, not just for losing his cool, but for doing it for such a silly reason. If he was going to express his concern about the direction of their relationship, he knew he should do so honestly and fairly. "I'm sorry I lost my temper. You were right to say what you did. I just…I don't know. I'm sorry." He was trying to salvage what rapport remained and was relieved to find that not much damage had been done, because Emily's shocked face softened up considerably.

"Hey, it's okay. Is something wrong? You never lose your temper like that at home. Not around me, anyway." She couldn't find it in her to reiterate how much he'd scared her.

"Nothing's wrong. I just had a long day." Hotch eyed the television screen, which was waiting for someone to press play on some new release movie he had never even heard of.

"Do you…want me to go?" Emily asked. _Please say no._ Not only did she prefer spending time with him, but she didn't want to leave on iffy ground. She wouldn't sleep that night if she went home without working things out with him first. Of that she was certain.

"Maybe that's a good idea. I'm not much fun tonight." Hotch couldn't look her in the eye but knew she was probably wounded or at least confused.

"Well, we _are _friends. It's not like I'm only willing to spend time with you when everything's hunky-dory. If something's wrong, we should talk about—"

"_Nothing_—is wrong." Hotch felt his blood boiling again. "Nothing's wrong," he repeated more calmly, which took a tremendous amount of effort. "I'll see you at work on Monday."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily placed her palms on the cool granite of the conference room table. She along with her three friends stared ahead like deer in headlights. But the first words out of the attorney's mouth sent everyone staring down toward the end of the table, in Emily's direction.

"Estate executor? What does that mean?" she asked the attorney. She knew, but that was all she could think to say.

"It means that Ms. Jareau trusted you to ensure that the final wishes of her and her husband be respected. It isn't legally binding. Since guardianship is a concern, I will warn you that things may get sticky. Usually being an executor is quite simple and you wouldn't need professional help, but I'd discourage you from going this alone because of the children. But before we proceed, I do need to know if you're willing to take on this responsibility. Clearly, Ms. Jareau did not approach you about this, but she apparently trusted that you would take this on."

Emily realized she hadn't breathed the entire time the attorney was talking. "Where did she want the kids to go?" It was the only thing on her mind. Ever since she'd left JJ and Will's house earlier, that day, she hadn't been able to stop thinking about where they were, how they were doing, how they were being treated.

"The attorney lowered his horn-rimmed glasses. "Well, to a certain extent, that's up to you, that is, if you take on the role as executor. Will you?"

Emily's mouth hung slightly open in shock as she nodded. "Yes. Of course."

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading! Reviews are much appreciated if you have a moment, even anonymous ones :)**


	9. Last Will and Testament

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading and reviewing so far!**

**Also, thanks again to SussiRay for reading through this for me, and for letting me spoil everything so she can be the best beta she can be. **

**Finally, a lot of things are alluded to (subtly and not so subtly) but not explained. So if you are reading and think, "Did I miss something in a previous chapter?" the answer is "Probably not." All will be revealed, just not yet.**

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily felt, rightfully so, that all eyes in the room were on her. She avoided her friends' gazes and stared at the attorney as he nodded.

"We can take care of the formalities behind that later. I'm sure you're all interested in hearing why you're here." He didn't wait for their nods. "Ms. Jareau and Mr. LaMontagne had a…peculiar request regarding the guardianship of their children."

The pounding of Emily's heart was nearly deafening. Her palms went sweaty and she rubbed them on her pant legs.

"The deceased requested that, first of all, both Charlotte and Henry remain together and in one household."

Emily nodded. Of course. That made sense. She could see her friends nodding in her peripheral vision.

"This is where things get a little sticky, however. Since each of you is a godparent to one of the children, surely you have the children's best interests at heart. The deceased—"

"Can you please call them JJ and Will?" Garcia interrupted quickly and quietly. Emily, seated next to Garcia, reached for her hand and rubbed the top of it.

"I apologize. Of course. JJ and Will requested specifically that their children go to, if possible, any of the godparents who no longer work at the…" The attorney pushed his glasses up his nose and peered at the papers again. "…Behavioral Analysis Unit, given the demands of the job. They also requested that no one make any career changes to change the outcome of the situation."

Emily instantly glanced at Garcia, who was clearly trying quite hard to hold it together. Her cheeks flushed as the tears pooled up at the lower rims of her eyes.

"I take it that excludes one or more of you?" the attorney asked.

Emily nodded solemnly while Garcia and Reid each raised their hands briefly.

"The will also states that the guardian or guardians of their children not work similarly demanding jobs. Mr. Hotchner, Miss Prentiss, would you label your jobs as similarly demanding?"

Emily was the first to shake her head, but Hotch wasn't far behind her. "I work a nine-to-five now."

"As do I," Hotch's low voice sounded at the other end of the table.

"Will and JJ didn't quantify 'similarly demanding' so that leaves it up to you, Miss Prentiss, to decide whether you or Mr. Hotchner, or both, will take on the role of guardian, or whether you wish to pursue alternative options."

"Is there—is there anything else about, I don't know, how many guardians Will and JJ wanted the kids to have?" Emily stammered. This time it was Garcia who squeezed her hand, knowing exactly what Emily's thoughts were.

"Yes. They preferred two guardians."

"But one guardian _could_ work?" Emily asked.

"It merely says that two guardians are preferred."

"What about Will's brother?" Emily asked.

"He is explicitly excluded as a guardian for the children, but they did not state why."

Emily nodded and held one of her cheeks with her free hand, propping her elbow up on the table. "Can you tell us when their will was updated?" She was getting a headache, felt like rubbing her forehead until everyone just left her alone, until she could find her way to a world where this was all just a big, fat, horrible joke.

"A week ago."

"A week ago?" Emily whispered, sharing a terrified look with Garcia. She could see Hotch hiding most of his weary face behind his broad hands. Reid was running both hands through his hair while he rocked back and forth in his oversized chair.

"With the reasoning that Charlotte had been christened and therefore had godparents that needed listing in the will."

"So this is _my_ decision?" Emily asked, for clarification, horrified at the words that came out of her own mouth. "_I_ have to decide what happens to their children?"

"If you're taking on the role of executor, then yes. You still have the option to decline that role, as we haven't made that official yet."

Emily shook her head. "It was what they wanted. I mean, they didn't _talk_ to me about it, but it was what they wanted."

"I suggest you think carefully before deciding what to do about the children."

"I will," Emily said, suddenly aloof.

"That's all that concerns the rest of you, then. I still have some things to go over with Miss Prentiss. Thank you very much for your time." He stood and shook hands with Hotch, Reid, and Garcia, as they exited the room in that order. Garcia gave Emily a fleeting blank stare before walking through the door. Emily's body grew cold at this and she wrapped her arms around her narrow waist.

"Do you need a few minutes?" the attorney asked.

Emily shook her head hastily while she swiped at the tears that had burst forth without warning. "I just want to get the rest of this taken care of as soon as possible."

"Certainly."

—

Emily exited the conference room with her hand stuffed into her purse, searching for her phone. She needed to call Garcia, needed to clear the air. But all three of her friends sat waiting on benches in the hallway. The gesture of support, of a familial bond, no matter how little it may have seemed to them, meant the world to Emily.

"Oh." She sniffed, nearing the end of her crying bout. "Hey, guys."

Hotch was the first to rise from his seat, but Emily headed straight to Garcia, who didn't rise with as much confidence as Hotch. "Have you decided anything?" Garcia asked into Emily's hair as she held onto her firmly.

"Of course not. Not without you guys. I think we should all sit down together and talk."

"I think," Reid said, taking everyone by surprise, as he had remained quite silent ever since he had heard about JJ and Will's passing, "that they named _you_ executor for a reason, Emily. They trusted _you_ to make the right choice."

Emily backed away from Garcia and addressed all three of them, Hotch getting the shortest glance. "All four of us are godparents. JJ and Will did _that_ for a reason, too. If they left it up to me to decide, then they trusted my judgment, and my judgment involves taking into account how all four of us feel. This isn't a decision I want to or can make alone. We all just need to sit down together and talk this over. Do you think now is a good time?" She rolled her lips inward and panned across them. No one answered. "Okay, come on, guys, executor of the estate doesn't mean master of the universe. Someone say something."

"I think you're right. We should all talk," Hotch said decisively, gazing at Emily, who suddenly couldn't tear her eyes off the man whose eyes she'd been avoiding. What was his game? Was he kissing her ass? Was he sincerely supporting her?

"Thank you," she said, nodding ever so slightly. "Let's sit down somewhere and grab a bite to eat. Maybe this decision will be easier than I'm thinking, maybe not. If it's not, then we can talk more later."

**May 2008**

"Hotch, this isn't a good idea," JJ said. "I mean, I know it's your call, but—"

"I'll be fine," Emily said, unstrapping her Kevlar and removing her gun and holster, passing it all off to Morgan. She let her hair loose and fluffed it in the wind.

"Just remember to keep him engaged in the fantasy and you'll be fine," Hotch said, nodding with apparent certainty to Emily.

"Can you please not use the word _fantasy_?" she said with a sardonic smirk.

Hotch eyed her back but didn't crack. "We'll be posted at all the entrance points. We'll wait for your signal." The rest of the team took off, and Emily was about to as well, but Hotch grabbed her gently by the arm.

"What?" Emily said, biting her lip, her eyes opening widely at his touch.

"If you're at all not sure about this, we can do this another way. Do you think maybe JJ's right? We're not exactly great at making joint decisions."

"We usually make good decisions, Hotch. And I thought we weren't going to talk about it?"

"We aren't."

"Good. Then I'll see you later." Her hair whipped behind her as she strode off, not angry, but perhaps a bit unnerved. Either way, it wasn't the best way for her to go in.

**June 2008**

"Hey, Em?" JJ called from her desk, stacked two feet high with case files, as usual, when Emily happened to walk by her door.

Emily backtracked and popped her head in the doorway. "Yeah?"

"Can I…talk to you for a minute?" JJ's doe eyes widened imploringly.

"Sure." Emily looked and sounded like she'd been caught with her hand in the cookie jar. She plopped down in the chair in front of JJ's desk. "What's up?"

JJ smiled timidly. "How are you?"

"How _am_ I?" Emily stuck her lower lip out, trying to convey that she was wondering what on earth JJ could be alluding to.

"Come on, you know what I'm talking about. You haven't really talked about what happened in L.A."

"JJ, it was nothing."

"You were missing for a day and a half. How is that _nothing_?" JJ asked incredulously, wobbling a pencil anxiously between her tiny fingers.

"Listen, it was nothing like what Reid went through. I just came back with a few bumps and bruises."

"If it was no big deal, then why do you look…" JJ didn't know whether to finish her question.

Emily frowned. "Why do I look _what_?"

"…Sick. Overly thin, paler than normal, not as energetic. I mean, it's normal for someone to show signs of distress after being abducted and held captive. You're allowed to talk about it like it was a big deal. Because it obviously was. Just admit that it affected you."

"Jayje, there's nothing to talk about. Really, I'm fine. Still a little shaken, I guess, but I'm okay."

JJ didn't seem convinced, but pursed her lips and nodded in resignation. "Promise?"

Emily smiled and rolled her eyes as she stood to leave. "Promise."

"Emily?" she heard again soon once she walked past Hotch's office. She gave an exasperated sigh and took two steps back once again to peek inside.

"What's up?"

"Come on in and shut the door," Hotch's low voice issued from his desk.

Emily's heart thudded against her chest as she obeyed. "What's up?" she repeated, more hesitantly, less out of reflex than the first time.

"What did JJ want?" Hotch set some paperwork aside and folded his hands in front of him.

"God, what, do you have supersonic hearing?" Emily moaned.

Hotch raised his threatening unit chief eyebrows. "Is everything okay?"

"You _know_ everything's not okay," Emily said poignantly.

"Yes, I do…But I meant with JJ."

"Are you asking as a friend or as unit chief?"

Hotch's stern demeanor wilted a bit at this question. "As a friend," he said with as much softness as he could muster.

"Not really. She's prying," Emily said, the guilt etched all over her face.

"Maybe you should tell her."

Emily gripped the arms of her chair, closing her eyes and shaking her head stubbornly, something Hotch was quite used to. "She doesn't need to know."

"She's your best friend."

"Not my only one, right?" Emily shot back in a pitiful attempt to misguide the focus of the conversation.

"Stop that." Emily knew Hotch had called her out on her utter nonsense.

"I'm not going to tell her," Emily said, again shaking her head. "Maybe it's wrong of me, I don't know, but I don't think it's a burden I need to share with the whole—"

"You just don't want to face it." Hotch's words were painfully candid.

"_Face it_? What, was I supposed to learn some life lesson from it? It happened. It's done. It's over. There's no reason to bother anyone else with it."

"As a friend, again, I'm going to be frank with you. I think you have a warped sense of what friendship is about. JJ would want to know. This isn't something you have to face alone."

"I'm not alone. I have you. And whom I tell is my choice, not hers, not yours. I really appreciate your support lately but you're getting invasive."

"Then I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. I just want to make sure you've looked at this from every angle."

"I have. Can I go now?"

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Hey, can I talk to you for a second?" Emily asked Garcia outside the restaurant. More than anything, she wanted to get out of the cold, but she also needed a private moment with her friend.

"Sure," Garcia said mousily.

"We'll be right in," Emily said to Hotch and Reid as they passed though the door. "Grab us a table." Once they were inside, Emily turned her attention back toward Garcia. "Listen, about the executor thing…" Emily didn't think she'd ever felt so guilty in her life. JJ and Garcia had been friends for longer than JJ and herself, and although she didn't feel that was the only measure of a friendship, she still knew she would have felt slighted had she been in Garcia's position.

"Emily, don't worry about it—"

"I _swear_ this isn't something JJ discussed with me," Emily said, cupping a hand on Garcia's shoulder.

Garcia smiled reassuringly—something she was annoyingly good at, at times—and covered Emily's hand with her own. "I know, Em."

"And about the BAU thing…" Emily shook her head, still in disbelief that in two seconds, Henry's godparents had been excluded from fulfilling their duty. When she thought about it, she realized she was actually angry about it. Angry at her friend who had been dead only half a day. Had it really been only that long?

"It makes complete sense, honey. As much as I would love to be a mommy for Henry or both of them, my job doesn't permit that. Neither does Reid's."

"But she didn't even leave the option open for you to leave—" Emily stuttered

"Emily, you and I both know what she had in mind."

Emily shut her eyes tight in refusal.

"Come on, they updated the will right after they named you and Hotch as Charlotte's godparents, and added in that clause or whatever it was about not wanting the kids' guardians working at the BAU? You've been gone a month. Hotch has been gone for what, six or seven months now? Do the math. They had a plan."

"We don't know if they just added that in when they updated it," Emily reasoned. "It could have been a stipulation all along that they didn't want their kids to fall into the hands of workaholics."

"Doubtful, but even if it wasn't something they _just_ thought up last week, they didn't change it, did they?" Emily's face melted in even more remorse and hopelessness. "No, I'm not mad, I'm just saying…they obviously had their kids in mind. They had their stuff together. They knew exactly what they were saying in that will. They at least had the decency not to _force_ you and Hotch to live together and—"

"Okay, stop. No. I can't even think about that right now." Emily crossed her arms against the bitter wind that was kicking up.

"That's what we came here _to_ think about. You just need to keep in mind what JJ would have wanted. And I don't know what happened between you and Hotch, or what didn't happen, but all that's important is that we do what JJ would have wanted. Right?"

Emily nodded at first, but her nod rolled into a shake instead. "I can't believe her."

"I can understand that you're angry," Garcia started.

"I am, but not because of what she suggested through their will, but because she didn't really give me a choice."

"The attorney said you can explore other options, and it doesn't _need_ to be both of you, hell, it can be just Hotch who takes the kids…you didn't even have to be executor."

"But you just said it." Emily took a deep breath. "It's about what JJ would have wanted."

Garcia hadn't intended for her words to make Emily's decision for her, just to open her up, really. "Honey, this isn't set in stone. And I could be totally full of it. Maybe the guys will have a different take on it that makes sense. Let's get out of the cold."

Emily nodded somberly and followed Garcia inside.

**A/N: Thanks for reading, and please consider taking a moment to leave a review. They are appreciated :)**


	10. And Then There Were Two

**A/N: Thanks for all the lovely reviews so far! Keep 'em coming, I thoroughly enjoy reading them, no matter how short or long. Enjoy!**

**I have taken a bit of creative license regarding Hotch's housing situation between the time Haley leaves with Jack to the time she files for divorce. Hope you'll be okay with that. Nothing huge.  
**

Even though Emily had known Reid and Hotch would be waiting for her and Garcia to come inside, Hotch's drilling gaze caught her off guard. He maintained it, eyes locked in persistently on hers, asking her a thousand questions to which she couldn't fathom the answers. He was seated on one side of a booth with Reid, leaving the other side open for Emily and Garcia, so there was nowhere Emily could sit and avoid Hotch's determined stare. The best she could do was sit at the other end of the table, across from Reid. She finally broke the disconcerting eye contact with Hotch, her stomach lurching and making a sound she hoped no one heard, and played with the empty coffee cup in front of her.

"I figured we could all use some coffee," Hotch said just as a waitress approached them and filled up their cups. Emily drank in the bitter but heavenly substance, not even knowing how much she needed the warmth and caffeine until it all passed by her dry winter lips. She didn't add any sugar or cream like she normally did.

The coffee sent Emily away for a moment in time, to a place where everything looked as it did now except that she was squeezed into the booth between Garcia and JJ, the latter of whom was giggling at something Reid had said. An imaginary, yet very realistic place where the last fifteen or sixteen hours hadn't happened.

"Emily?" She felt a hand rubbing tiny circles over her shoulder and snapped back to reality. Her heart sank when she didn't feel a body at her left side. Just chilly air, and Garcia to her right. "You spaced out for a minute, honey. You okay?"

"Sorry," Emily murmured, running a finger around the rim of her coffee cup. The hallucination, or whatever it had been, sent her several steps back. She tucked her lips inward in a fruitless attempt to ward off the fresh tears. "I'm sorry, you guys. I just need a minute." The hot, relentless cascade clouded her vision, made it impossible for her to tell who was staring at her, though she was sure everyone was. But no, at least Garcia wasn't. She was wrapping her arms snugly around Emily's shoulders.

"Take all the time you need, sugar. We're right here." Emily could hear the stuffiness under Garcia's words and felt guilty that her inability to maintain a grip was now affecting someone else.

"Sorry," she said again with a messy sniffle.

"Don't apologize," Hotch said lowly.

"Yeah, it's okay," Reid said uncertainly, surely meaning well, but not quite sure how to word it.

"We're right here with you. You're not alone," Hotch continued. Emily glanced in Hotch's direction rather blindly, her eyes still leaking and her eyesight still fogged over. She nodded her head into Garcia's shoulder and held onto her friend's arm with both her hands.

Hotch felt his own tears stinging behind his eyes, and next to him he could see Reid's slender hands sliding up to cover his face. What were they doing in public? Their friends hadn't even been gone a day. Everything was still too fresh, too raw. They belonged in the privacy of someone's home. He toyed with the idea of suggesting this, but Emily was soon calming down with Garcia, who had eventually begun to weep just as sorrowfully as they rocked her to and fro. They stood still now and Garcia was whispering something to Emily. Emily was nodding quickly.

"I probably scared the waitress off," Emily said after a few more moments' silence.

"No, you didn't, hon. I'm right here. The menus are against the wall right there next to you. I'll give you a few more minutes." Emily didn't even look up to see what their waitress looked like as she passed by; the pattern on the Formica table top was coming into focus and she was trying to count the speckles.

"I'm not even hungry, are you guys?" Emily asked, reaching for a napkin. Hotch quickly handed her a stack of them. The roughness killed the skin under her eyes and nose, but it was better than nothing. She was surprised Garcia didn't have tissues with her, but realized she had toted a pretty small purse that day. She sat there with her face as soggy as Emily's.

"We should all eat," Reid said. "I could give you the geeky explanation as to why, but just trust me. Trying to run on an empty stomach isn't a good idea. At least have some soup, even if you're not hungry," he said to Emily.

"He's right," Garcia chimed in. She, Reid, and Hotch all flipped open menus and picked something quickly. Emily didn't bother. She just sunk into the red pleather upholstered booth, pressing her head firmly back into it. "Okay, I'm ready. Let's talk." Just then, their waitress reappeared to take their orders. Garcia, Reid, and Hotch all placed their orders, leaving Emily panicking because she had nothing to say.

"Whatever soup you have today for her," Garcia said. "That sound okay, Emily?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Thanks," she said to no one in particular.

"Still ready?" Garcia asked gently.

"Yeah. Okay..." She paused and took one big breath. "So, umm, JJ's family is in a family plot where there's room reserved for her and Will. I have the papers on that for you, Hotch." She dug through her purse and handed them over. "I think that should be everything you need. There weren't any special requests for the funeral besides that. They left all of their savings in a trust fund for the kids, which they'll get when they graduate from college or turn thirty, whichever comes first, obviously to encourage them to actually _go_ to college. And they left everything else—the house, everything inside it, the cars—to whomever takes the kids, with the understanding that they would either keep the house and move into it, or sell it and put the money away for the kids. Same with the cars. Use them or sell them. Basically do whatever with all of it, as long as it's for the benefit of the kids." She panned nervously across the table, trying to gauge the others' reactions. "So that's really what we have to decide. What happens to the kids?"

"What do you think?" Hotch asked, taking a sip of his coffee, also black.

Emily shot Garcia one quick confidence-building glance and said, "JJ trusted me to make sure that things went the way she wanted them to. In some places she was inflexible. The kids stay together and in one household, not moving back and forth. No guardians from the BAU. In other places, she was vague. Two guardians preferred. But one would be okay, if need be. Or it doesn't even _have_ to be one of us. But I personally hate the idea of letting the kids be wards of the state. I think we've all seen enough of what happens in that system, and even though we only saw the really bad stuff, I would never be able to live with myself if we just abandoned them like that. Not when we have the ability to take care of them." Emily had no idea how she was able to speak so coherently on so little sleep and having just stopped crying. Patient stares surrounded her. "And I guess they wrote this with a specific situation in mind. Does anyone disagree?"

"We're not really any further than we were in the conference room," Reid said. "We know what they meant to happen. Question is, will it?"

Emily shrugged and caught Hotch's eye. He stared back at her with just as much certainty as she did. "I don't know. I was hoping we could all figure that out together."

"Well, Garcia and I, in any case, won't be the ones taking the kids. If this is down to you or Hotch or both of you, then I don't think Garcia and I should have a say," Reid said.

"Reid, I don't think it's that simple," Emily said, shaking her head.

"I didn't say it was simple. I mean, you guys will have to think really carefully about whether it's a good idea for you to live in the same household and raise, essentially, three kids, because of Jack." Reid stopped and shrugged while Emily stared him down. "I'm not trying to throw you under the bus, but I really don't feel comfortable weighing in on this decision. She made you executor for a reason, and I don't have a right to question that, so I don't have a right to make your decisions for you."

"But I _need_ your input," Emily insisted. "I don't feel like I can make the right decision on my own."

"Well, honey, the decision isn't only yours to make," Garcia piped in, moving her eyes from Emily to Hotch. "Maybe Reid's right. Maybe he and I shouldn't have a further role in deciding. We'll _be_ there, of course. Every step of the way. Whenever you need us. We won't back out on that. But you need to make the decision that's best for the kids and for you guys."

Emily couldn't avert her eyes from Hotch any longer without making it obvious that they had quite the history. "I guess," was all she said.

"Garcia, you're dealing with the police, right?" Hotch asked.

"Yes, sir—I mean, yes. Sorry, old habits die hard."

A hint of a grin played at Hotch's lips. "Emily, why don't you come back to my place and work on the funeral arrangements with me if you have everything else done that you needed to do? We can talk."

Emily felt Garcia's hand brush hers, then squeeze it encouragingly. "All right."

"Is there anything I can do?" Reid asked.

"I might be able to use your encyclopedic knowledge of…everything. Come with me and help me deal with the details of the accident and whatnot," Garcia said. No one objected to this plan, so after they got their food and ate until they were satisfied, Hotch picked up the check, ignoring halfhearted protests.

Garcia stopped Emily on the way outside and pulled her into a tight hug. "Whatever choice you make will be the right one," she said. "Call me if you need anything at all, okay?"

Emily nodded. "Thank you."

"I love you, sweetie." Garcia pulled back and kissed Emily on the forehead. Emily couldn't help but emit a breathy laugh.

"And I love you. Keep me posted." Emily watched Garcia walk to her car, then saw that Hotch was waiting outside his own car.

"Do you want the address or do you want to follow me?" Hotch asked as Emily approached.

"I'll follow you." Emily answered. She shivered as she lowered herself onto her bitingly cold leather seat. Rubbing her hands briskly together, she waited for Hotch to leave. She followed him across town. After about twenty minutes of dreading the conversation to come, Emily finally followed Hotch into what looked to be a rather nice neighborhood. Nice homes, nicer cars, a few kids playing in their front yards, trying to make snowballs out of what snow had fallen the night before. Hotch pulled into the driveway of a sizeable, modern red-brick home with a two-car garage. Emily pulled up next to him and gathered herself before removing her keys from the ignition.

**October 2007**

"You okay?" Emily asked Hotch as he arranged some books on a shelf. The floor was filled with open cardboard boxes containing all of Hotch's material possessions—which, given the amount of time he spent at home, wasn't much.

"As okay as I can be, I suppose," Hotch said.

"Maybe this is what you and Haley need. Just some time apart."

"If that's what Haley needed then I don't think she'd suggest I get my own place. I'd be at an extended stay hotel, not two-bedroom apartment," Hotch deadpanned.

"Well, did she tell you specifically to get an apartment? Maybe she meant for you to stay at a hotel."

Hotch cast Emily a sidelong glance as he alphabetized. "She's not optimistic. Besides, a hotel isn't secure enough for the types of materials I need to bring home."

Emily rolled her eyes a little behind Hotch's back at his attempts to justify his behavior. "Your landlord can get into your apartment just as easily as a hotel maid, no?" Hotch shot her an irritated look. "I'm just saying, maybe Haley _is_ optimistic, and maybe you're just not." She dug through the box at her feet, which contained some old records. If Hotch was packing things he rarely used, he clearly wasn't planning on just spending _some_ time apart from Haley. As much as Hotch and Haley's compatibility was lost on Emily, and as much as she thought Haley unfairly pressured Hotch, she hated to see the inevitable ending, as she foresaw it being drawn out and painful. She almost wished Haley would just ask for a divorce already and make things easier on Hotch, who was apparently readying himself for a life without her and didn't seem terribly thrilled about it.

Her remark to Hotch got no answer at first. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"I appreciate good old fashioned honesty," Hotch said, his head lowered into another box of books. "You're right about at least half of it. I'm not optimistic. Haley and I haven't been reliably happy together since Jack was born. Because once Jack was born, I wasn't just a bad husband anymore. I was a bad father."

"You're _not_ a bad father. It's because of your job that Haley and Jack can live comfortably, no?"

"There's only so much money can do. Someday you'll get married, have kids of your own," he said, not wanting to picture that, "and you'll find out that you can screw up in a million more ways than you can do things right."

"Well, you're just a blast to hang out with tonight," Emily said dryly, knowing Hotch wouldn't take offense.

"Sorry."

"Don't be. Your life is upside down right now. You're handling it better than I probably would." She started stacking records in a corner Hotch had pointed out for that purpose earlier.

"I don't know. You don't strike me as the run-and-hide type," Hotch said.

"You don't strike _me_ as that type either. I guess love does funny things."

Hotch stood and exhaled loudly, needing a break from all the bending and lifting. "I guess so. Thank you again for helping out, by the way."

"Don't mention it." Emily remembered the night not long ago when they'd gone their separate ways after returning from Milwaukee, how Hotch had expressed some trepidation in going home that night after he walked Emily to her car. He'd known he was in trouble for leaving. When he'd called Emily a couple of hours later, she hadn't been too surprised to find that Haley had done _something_ about Hotch taking off without her approval, even though leaving with Jack seemed a little harsh. She _had_ been surprised, however, that Hotch had called her instead of Gideon. Or anyone else on the team, really. To this day, the grief he'd given her when she'd joined the team almost a year ago still stung a little. For a few months now, he'd seemed like he'd been trying to make it up to her. He'd been nicer, had given her more autonomy, had trusted her judgment more, and when he'd mentioned to the team that he was moving out of his home, he hadn't refused Emily's offer to help. This offer had earned her some funny looks from the rest of the team—looks that told her she'd probably made a big mistake getting involved in Hotch's personal life. But she'd been ballsy with him before, and it had earned her her job. She figured if she continued pushing the envelope with him, she'd end up with a friend.

And it seemed as though she had. Hotch stepped carefully over the empty boxes that left hardly any room for walking and used Emily's shoulder for balance on his way past her. Apparently the half-empty pizza box on the counter was calling his name. "Fruit doesn't go on pizza," he complained for the third or fourth time.

"Stop whining. There's only pineapple on my half. No one's making you eat it."

Hotch shook his head and held up a slice from his half, with the works, pointing to a stray piece of pineapple.

Emily smiled and rolled her eyes. "Then give it here. I'll eat it."

"Under one condition."

"What's that?" Emily said, already having taken a bite of the pizza she snatched from Hotch's hand.

"No more talking about Haley."

Emily furrowed her brow. "So you're going through a really rough patch in your marriage and you'd rather not talk about it with the only person who will put up with how incredibly boring and irritable you are?"

"You're already eating the pizza."

"Okay," Emily said warily. "Deal, I guess. Will you at least tell me why?"

"It feels…wrong. Can you do me a favor and let us leave it at that?"

Emily searched Hotch's brooding eyes for the real answer to the question he'd dodged skillfully but couldn't find it. "Okay."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Nice place," she felt obligated to say. Hell, it was the truth. Though she'd never seen the appeal in owning a home, being a single and childless workaholic, she found herself envying him a bit. The thought ran across her mind that there was a slight possibility that she would be living here, depending on what transpired with Henry and Charlotte.

"Thank you. Come on in." Hotch shut the front door behind Emily while she unzipped her boots.

"Where's Jack? Shouldn't he be out of school by now?" Emily asked. At her own question, she found herself missing the little boy. When Hotch had somewhat severed their friendship, he had done the same to Emily's relationship with Jack. It was a shame, as Emily had always felt that she and Jack got along rather well. She hadn't had a hard time picturing the three of them together. Apparently, Hotch hadn't given it a thought when he'd dumped her on the side of the road just like that.

"Jessica took him over to her place after school instead today. I told her what was going on and she offered to relocate for the day."

"Oh." So they were in Hotch's home, alone, just the two of them. Funny how this wouldn't have been the least bit weird the previous summer or earlier. Emily couldn't imagine what could make her feel more vulnerable than she felt right now. "How's he doing, anyway?" She followed Hotch at a distance into the kitchen, where he fixed them both a glass of water.

"Really well, actually," Hotch said. "Excuse the mess. Still unpacking," he apologized once he led her to the cluttered living room.

"No problem. So, what still needs to be done for the funeral arrangements?" She found the furthest seat from Hotch. Her little stunt didn't go unnoticed; Hotch gave her a defeated look.

"Mostly everything is done. I contacted Harry and he sounded pretty uninterested in making any of the decisions, even for caskets, so I'm making them all. Everything is mostly set except for the plots."

"What about money?" Emily asked.

"I imagine their life insurance policy will cover the expenses, but I'm sure that's full of red tape. I covered it for now."

"Hotch—"

He held a shushing hand up from where he sat on the couch. "Let's not worry about money. Let me go fax these to the funeral home. I'll be right back." He flipped on the television and handed Emily the remote before heading upstairs with the papers Emily had given him. She wondered what exactly Hotch had needed help with in the way of funeral arrangements, why he'd had her come over. When he came back downstairs, she couldn't off the temptation to ask just that. He didn't ask her why she hadn't changed the channel.

"So what exactly _isn't_ done already for the funeral arrangements?" Emily asked with a bite to her voice.

"Sorry?" Hotch looked at Emily innocently, seemingly lost on why she sounded irritated.

"You had me come over here to help you finish with funeral arrangements."

"Well, the major stuff is taken care of…I reserved the funeral home for their wake, got their church for the funeral service, had the funeral director set up a burial service, and planned a luncheon at a banquet hall."

"What about flowers, caskets, headstones? Food? Calling people to let them know?"

"I have an appointment in the morning to pick the flowers, caskets, and headstones. The funeral home will take care of the rest except for the luncheon, which should be fairly simple. I just need to get a hold of the caterers."

"What about notifying everyone? Who's going to make calls, or are you going to do paper—"

"I delegated part of that to Harry, who's going to contact Will's friends and extended family members. I figured I could take care of JJ's side."

"You don't have time to do all of this. Thursday's way too early," Emily stated. "One of us should take the arrangement side of things and the other should make calls."

"Emily, I can—"

"Stop." Emily gave him a nasty stare. "I'm a grown woman. Just because I haven't gone more than an hour without crying doesn't mean I can't handle this. And just because you feel guilty for being an asshole doesn't mean you should baby me and try to do this all by yourself. I can do this."

Hotch couldn't blame Emily for the name calling. She'd hit the nail on the head. He hadn't thought his attempts to regain her trust were that transparent, but he hadn't been giving Emily enough credit. Apparently, seven months out of the BAU and away from Emily had been enough to make him forget that she was extremely perceptive. He rarely got away with bullshit when it concerned her.

"Which would you rather do, then? We can also call on our friends for help."

"No. We don't need to. And you'll probably be better at making the calls. I'm not having the best time regulating my emotions."

Hotch nodded somberly. "Then I'll leave the rest up to you."

"Okay." Emily clasped her hands between her knees and stared blankly at Hotch. "You know, this is a lot to do. Maybe we should move the funeral back a few days, and hold off on talking about the kids until all the arrangements are done."

"The date will be difficult to change. And are you going to want to talk about the any more after the funeral than you do now?" Hotch asked.

Emily sighed. He'd called her out. "I guess not."

"Then let's talk."

"Where do we start?" Emily asked.

"Well…we could start by trying to be a little more civil toward one another."

"We _are_ being civil. We don't have to be best friends to have this discussion."

"Maybe we do," Hotch countered. "Or maybe we could at least pretend that you don't hate me for what I did."

A lump formed in Emily's throat. "I never said I hated you."

"Not that I blame you, but you're acting like it. When you found out about JJ, I was the first person you called. Let's get back to that. What happened that made you snap?"

"I don't really know for sure. Thinking about how it all fell apart, I guess."

"Then I need you to at least temporarily forgive me. We need to figure this out."

"I can't make this important of a decision with you based on temporary feelings," Emily said.

"Then where does that leave us?"

**A/N: Again, thanks for reading! Please leave a quick review if you can spare a moment more. :)**


	11. Trust and Honesty

**A/N: Continued thanks for all the reviews so far. I do appreciate them. Without further ado...**

**February 2011 (Present Day)  
**

Emily took a long drink of water and set her glass back down on the coffee table. She'd thought about the answer to this exact question on the way over, but no satisfactory answer had come to mind.

"Emily," Hotch said softly, mimicking Emily's position, his hands between his knees, elbows on his thighs.

"I don't know."

"Then how can we make this decision?"

Emily shrugged. "You tell me. Maybe it would be easier for me to figure out what to do if I knew why were friends for three years and then you acted like you hardly knew me."

As right as Hotch knew Emily was, as guilty as he felt for what he'd done to her, he'd selfishly hoped she would stop asking things like that.

"I don't know."

"Then how am I supposed to…" Emily groaned and buried her face in her hands.

"I know you don't trust me," Hotch cut in.

"Then you're right about one thing."

"But I'm sorry."

Emily was shaking her head when she looked up at him. "You know I already have _huge_ trust issues. You knew that then. And you were the only one who knew."

"Am I still?" Hotch asked.

"Not that that has _anything_ to do with this conversation, but yes, you are," she snapped. She frowned before continuing. "I…I don't know if I can pretend to trust you enough to raise children with you, Hotch. This is crazy."

"I know I've lost your trust, and I understand why. But let me ask you this. Are you sure _you_ want to take the kids?"

Without hesitation, Emily nodded.

"Tell me why."

"Because I…I was not always a good friend to JJ." At the mention of her name, Emily felt herself tearing up again. She strove to hold them back. She didn't want to break down anymore in front of Hotch, didn't want to give him an opportunity to try to get back to her. To aid in this endeavor, she gazed at the floor as she spoke instead of meeting his gaze. "You were right. I _should_ have told her what happened, and I didn't, and I considered it from time to time because I knew _she knew_ I wasn't telling her something, and I felt like such an awful friend for hiding it from her. But I felt like eventually it just felt like so long ago that there was no point in dredging it up, because _I_ had finally started coming to terms with it. And then you left and JJ knew I was hurting. She knew you and I were friends. Not…as good of friends as we really were, because I never told her _that_ part either," Emily said, feeling guilty for the partial lie, "but she knew I was upset when you took off, and she was there for me. How could I _not_ do the one thing she asked me to do? And I love the kids. Even if I didn't feel guilty, I would take them," she added, pretty certain that she was being truthful.

Hotch had been doing a lot of thinking since he'd left his post at the BAU—thinking about Emily, specifically, and whether he'd done the right thing. He'd come to the conclusion that he definitely could have done better. He'd had her number pulled up on his phone so many times over the past months that he'd lost count. The couple of times he'd seen her in person, not counting Charlotte's christening, he'd been tempted to ask Emily for a minute of her time so he could explain things, apologize. But what was there to explain? he would ask himself. How could he tell her the truth without hurting her? What _was_ the truth, even? Could he honestly tell her he didn't see them together in the way she obviously had? If not, then he would just have to admit to being completely wrong about everything, something that he wasn't fond of having to do.

Instead of giving Emily the honesty she deserved, he'd remained silent on the subject. Silent on everything, really. And to know now that Emily had needed JJ—or needed anyone else besides herself—to get through those months with him ignoring her, he felt the guilt penetrating him deeper and deeper. An uncomfortable knot formed in his stomach. Of course he'd known his absence had had an effect on her, but when she had called him before anyone else with the news of JJ's death, he had naively thought that maybe he was in the clear. He thought that perhaps Emily had forgiven even if she hadn't forgotten. But he had only gotten a few hours of precious time where she didn't hate him, and now they were back to the place he had dreaded.

"Are you even listening? You're the one who asked the question," Emily said bitterly.

"I heard every word, unfortunately," Hotch answered. "I was just thinking."

"About what?" Emily's voice grew less harsh as she realized she wasn't going to get anywhere by being catty.

Hotch waited until Emily looked him in the eye before replying. "About how sorry I am. You didn't do a thing to deserve being treated like trash. And that's exactly how I treated you. There's no sugarcoating it. That's not how anyone should treat a friend. I thought…like I said, I didn't know _what_ I was thinking," he lied, telling himself it was in Emily's best interests to continue doing so. "And I know you said at my retirement party that we were fine, no harm no foul. And I was selfish and made myself believe that even though deep down I knew we were anything but, because I didn't want to have to keep apologizing. So I walked away convincing myself I hadn't done any damage. And even though I missed you, that felt easy, maybe because I didn't have to admit my mistake."

"Should I have let you know somehow that you did hurt me?" Emily asked, wondering if Hotch was trying to hint that this was somehow her fault. She was ready to defend herself, and apparently Hotch picked up on that.

"No, not at all. Like I said, I did know that I'd been in the wrong and that you hadn't forgiven me. I was…as you said a few minutes ago…an asshole." He rarely swore around her and was a bit taken aback at even his willingness to quote her.

"So when you avoided me all those months, was it because you actually didn't want to be my friend anymore? I know I sound like a ten-year-old asking that, but seriously, did I do something?"

"It was because I was a coward. I don't know what else to say except that I'm terribly sorry."

Emily nodded. _Am I ready to believe him?_

"I'm not asking you to forgive me, but can you at least accept my apology and trust that it's sincere?"

Emily couldn't think of a reason to say no to that. She'd never heard such a humble apology, at least not from Hotch. "Okay."

"Thank you." Hotch knew he was taking a risk, but he got up and took the spot on the couch closest to the chair Emily occupied. "I need to know that you trust me."

"I trust that you're sorry," Emily clarified, backing away from him just slightly.

"But you don't trust that I won't do it again?"

"It's not so much that…I mean, who knows if we'll ever be that close again? So who knows if you'll have the opportunity to run away?" She stopped when she saw the deeply stung look in Hotch's eyes. "I…can trust you with the kids, though. If that's what you're asking."

"So you don't trust me with you, but you trust me with children that aren't mine or yours?"

"I know it sounds weird."

"Either way, I'm completely devoted to both."

Emily's mouth went slack. "Hotch, this can't be some decision we make because you want to be back in my good graces."

"Are you saying you don't believe that I care about the kids, and about JJ, and want to do what's right? Because you just agreed that you trust me with the kids—"

"I know what I said."

"I think we can get over what happened in the past and do this," Hotch said. "I honestly do. We're better than this. We can be friends again."

"You really think so?" Emily asked, twisting her hands together.

"You don't?" Hotch eyed Emily's hands with interest, but was afraid to go too far.

"This is a _huge_ decision," Emily said, terrified. "They specified the kids would need to live in one household. Which means we either both live at JJ's, or here, or somewhere else, at the same time…or, the kids stay at JJ's and we swap between living at our own places and JJ's, or something odd like that."

"I honestly don't think the second option is what's best for the kids, or for us. And they said they wanted the kids raised by two people, preferably, and if we're going off of that, I think it would be a misinterpretation if we thought we could do a house-swap kind of thing. They wanted stability for kids. And given that they updated the will right after we became godparents…" Hotch said, trailing off for Emily to complete his sentence, which he knew she could. Some things never changed.

"…They wanted it specifically to be us."

"A mother and a father figure," Hotch added. "I don't think we can be that for the kids if we start off as a home more broken than the one they already have."

"This is _way_ too much for me to process right now," Emily admitted, biting her lip until it stung.

"You said the decision might be easier than you thought," Hotch said. "What other viable option do you see? Do you think you can do this on your own?"

"What about Jack? You need to run this by him," Emily said suddenly.

"Don't dodge my question," Hotch said. "Do you think you can do this on your own?"

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review if you have a second.  
**


	12. Collateral Damage

**A/N: Thank you so much for all the reviews so far. You know I enjoy them! On to Chapter 12…All flashbacks. Enjoy!**

**Huge thanks to SussiRay, who is my sounding board for this story. I run a lot of things by her and she always gives me her honest opinion and guides me when needed :)  
**

**July 2010**

"You okay?" JJ asked Emily as they walked out to their cars together after Hotch's retirement party had finally wound down. Will had caught a cab home to relieve the babysitter an hour ago.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine," Emily said, flashing JJ a very fake smile.

"I saw you and Hotch talking. It didn't look like you were having a pleasant conversation," JJ noted.

"Oh that's just…whatever." They reached Emily's car first and Emily dug for her keys, avoiding JJ's eyes.

"You guys are good friends. At least, you were before he announced he was leaving. Did something happen? You've been kind of…off."

"No. I was just…upset that he didn't tell me. I thought we were closer than that, that's all."

"Have you talked to him about it?"

"He knows how I feel," Emily said seriously.

"Well, did he apologize?"

"JJ, I'm sorry, but I really don't want to talk about this," Emily said as kindly as she could.

"Okay," JJ said quietly. "You know I'm here if you do want to talk, right?"

Emily pulled JJ in for a hug. "I do. And thank you."

JJ smiled when she pulled away. "I'll see you Monday."

"See you Monday." JJ took off for her own car but before Emily could get in and close her door, she heard a very unwelcome voice calling her name from a few cars away. She didn't answer Hotch—considered not even acknowledging him—but just gave him the blankest of stares.

"Emily," Hotch said again, this time with more desperation. "Are you leaving?"

"Yeah, I'm bushed," Emily said, remembering that she had to be civil with him, since she'd said she'd forgiven him.

Hotch had arrived to Emily's car by the time he said, "You weren't going to say goodbye?"

"You were talking to someone," she fibbed. She hadn't even looked for him before she'd high-tailed it out of the banquet hall. She fiddled with her keys in her hands, counting how many savings club and membership cards she had instead of paying Hotch any more attention.

"It's been a while since you've been over," Hotch said hopefully.

"Yeah," she said softly.

"Why don't you come over for pizza or Chinese or something sometime this week? Like old times," Hotch said, as if "old times" were more than a month ago. That month had felt like a year to Emily. She wondered how easy it had been for Hotch.

"I don't know, Hotch."

"What happened to Aaron?" he asked for the first time since she'd stopped using his given name.

"You've been calling me Prentiss."

"I called you Emily just now. Look, I didn't mean for this to distance us." He made a note to himself to look in the mirror when he got home, to look long and hard at the liar he'd become. He'd prided himself on his honesty with Emily, and lamented the fact that it had come down to this.

"Then why haven't you tried to fix what you broke until now? Why did it take a month for you to force me to listen to your apology? And why won't you still tell me what the hell is going on?" Tears stung behind her eyes but she wouldn't free them.

He almost told her. "Nothing has to be different. We can still spend time together."

"_Aaron_," Emily said to him with as much spite as she could find in her, "we did not just _spend time together_. I spent more time with you and Jack than I did at my own apartment. And no matter how many times a week I come over now, it won't be the same, because I know you're not telling me something. I'm not stupid."

"You said you forgave me," Hotch said, gesturing back toward the banquet hall. "You said—"

"I can't reason with you right now. Once you've figured out what compelled you to treat me the way you did, or once you decide to tell me, because I _know_ you already know, then maybe we can talk. Till then…"

"You're being kind of hypocritical," was all Hotch could think to say. "You hid it all—everything—from JJ, when she specifically asked you what was bothering you."

"You know what, Hotch?" Emily said, her thin eyebrows raised, her forehead squeezed tight. Her dark-rimmed eyes bore into his. "I am"—she paused to laugh—"_so_ glad you're not my boss anymore so I can say this to you. Fuck you." She didn't bother lowering her voice. _Let the whole parking lot hear, for all I care_, she thought. She nodded once violently and plopped into the driver's seat. The deeply wounded look she left on Hotch's face she didn't see as she slammed her door. She started her car up and waited for the air conditioning to hit her face. She wondered if she'd really just reached the end of an era. Or caused it.

**September 2010**

"Look. At. You." Emily beamed when JJ met her at a favorite café of theirs.

"You saw me Friday at work," JJ said, rolling her eyes. It was Sunday.

"Yeah, but you know how jealous I am of you," Emily said, eying JJ's six-month belly.

"You want to feel like a whale? Be my guest." JJ smiled, though, and hugged Emily as tightly as she could with the baby in the way. "How was your Saturday?"

"Pretty lazy."

"I thought you had that barbecue at Hotch's you were going to."

Emily's smile faded in a hurry. "He never called to confirm a time or any details so I just said 'bag it.'" She shrugged.

JJ gave Emily chiding look. "It's a barbecue. Details: bring potato salad. Time: whenever you feel like it. _You_ just don't want to talk to him."

"He apparently doesn't want to talk to me either," Emily argued. "If he did, he would've called."

JJ bit her lip. "Did you ever think that maybe he's scared of you? I mean not of _you_, like you're going to kill him, but just scared of how you'll react to whatever it is he might want to say?"

"Am I supposed to act nice?" Emily asked. "I'm not happy with him."

"Em, it's been two months since he left. I think you should give him a chance to explain, try to mend things. You've been miserable without him."

"I have not. I'm just different."

"Because he was one of your best friends and now he's gone," JJ said with certainty.

"Don't you miss him enough to want to put everything behind you and start over, if that's what it takes?"

"I feel like you're siding with him. Let's not forget that he's the one who decided I was expendable."

"Yes, but we _all_ make mistakes. I think if you make an effort, he'll come around and tell you what's going on."

"Maybe I'm too proud, but I don't want to be the one who goes crawling back to him. Not when I'm not the one who did this."

**December 2010**

"Merry Christmas," Hotch said when JJ let him inside her home. He handed over a bottle of wine and had a green and silver wrapped gift under his arm for Henry. Jack followed closely behind him and waited for his dad's permission to go play. "Have at it, buddy. Put this under the tree while you're in there."

"Merry Christmas," JJ said, hugging Hotch around her giant belly. "How've you two been? I haven't seen you in so long."

"We've been well enough, how about you?" Hotch asked, following JJ into the kitchen.

"Doing great."

Hotch knew Emily was around; he'd seen her car outside. He lowered his voice. "So Emily is around here somewhere, I take it?"

JJ nodded. "She's not in a good mood, though. I'm just warning you."

"Because she knew I was coming," Hotch said, not asked.

"Can you blame her? I mean I know she could…" JJ paused and also lowered her voice despite the chatter that would have drowned both of them out anyway. "…I know she could probably swallow her pride and accept your apology for real, but you aren't being truthful with her."

Hotch lowered his eyes to the floor. "I know," he said, flicking his eyebrows upward. "Can I have a word with you in private?"

JJ eyed him cautiously. "Sorry, I think this is the most private we can get without walking past everyone else to get to the stairs or the office."

"Oh."

"But I can, uh, keep an eye out. Go ahead and talk."

"How is she?" Hotch asked, finally staring at JJ.

JJ's face went devoid of emotion. "Do you want an honest answer, or do you just want to hear that she's doing fine?"

"So she's not doing fine." Hotch eye JJ imploringly.

JJ hook her head gravely. "I don't know what exactly went on between you two. I don't know why you cut things off—and don't tell me you didn't, because you _know_ that's on you. I also don't know why she's so unwilling to put it behind her and give you another chance, besides the fact that she's as stubborn as you are. Maybe there's some specific reason why she's hurting so much. But since I don't know those things, all I can fairly say is that she's not herself. And I don't know whether it's because she misses you and _wants_ to be friends again, or because she hates you…I don't know because she doesn't really talk about it anymore."

"I see." Hotch scratched the back of his neck and crossed his ankles as he leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Hotch, I know it's absolutely none of my business beyond the fact that I love Emily to pieces and I hate seeing her like this, but could you tell _me_ why you did what you did?"

Hotch shook his head, curling his lips inside his mouth.

"Is it because you really don't know, or you don't want to say, or you're afraid I'll tell her?"

"I don't know if I can really put it into words," Hotch admitted. He suddenly realized how vulnerable he'd made himself. He typically reserved these teary-eyed moments for Emily when they came along, but he hadn't had a proper conversation with her in six months. He tried to think of what he wouldn't give to rewind back to the day where he'd decided she would be better off without him.

"Hotch," JJ said with a sigh, eyeing him pitifully. "Did you…did you guys have something else going on? You don't have to tell me, but you can if you want to."

"Do you mean to ask if we were involved?"

JJ shrugged but nodded. "Yeah."

"We weren't involved," Hotch said without hesitation.

JJ was climbing out on very thin, shaky limb. "Did you want to be? Or do you think she wanted to be?"

Hotch's watery eyes finally met those of someone who got him. He hadn't had that since Emily. "I felt that…she did want that, that we were headed in that direction, yes."

"Were you in love with her, too?"

Hotch's wet eyes opened wide. "I never said she was in love with me."

"Hotch, women don't spend day in and day out with a guy, decide they want to take the next step with him after three years, and _not_ call it being in love. If that's what was happening, that's what I would call it. I had an inkling she felt that way about you but she would never admit it. Did you feel the same way?"

Hotch didn't answer, but after a long moment of thinking about whether he wanted to be honest, he nodded. He felt guilty sharing his feelings with JJ and not Emily, but he tried to remind himself that he was just trying to keep Emily safe. He was convinced that her knowing the truth couldn't result in anything truly good. "I was. She was a perfect fit. And Jack loved her." JJ wanted to ask why, then, this was an issue, but she figured Hotch had more of an explanation left in him. "But I'm not…boyfriend material. I'm not husband material. I'm still not fully recovered from what happened with Haley. It's not that I haven't let go of Haley, or that I'm still in love with her, but I've never been able to shake that feeling that everyone I love is in danger. Emily deserves much better. I mean, look at what I did when I got scared. I'm not trustworthy."

JJ didn't wait for further elucidation and rested a hand on each of Hotch's arms. "Hotch, look at me. Why can't you just tell her these things? Whether you deserve her is _her_ decision. Not yours."

"It is my decision."

"How?"

"Because I love Emily enough to care whether she's with someone who will treat her right." It was the first time he'd put that word into a sentence with Emily's name in it. "I've proven over the last six months that I can…I can go six whole months not giving her what she deserves. I can't treat her right. I'm a coward."

"You have to give _her_ the chance to decide, Hotch."

He shook his head resolutely. "I can't. I can't let her choose me."

"Hotch—"

"Can you tell me one thing, JJ?"

"Maybe." JJ sighed and massaged her belly. "What?" She looked like she was losing patience with Hotch, and fast.

"Is she going to be okay, do you think?"

"Does your decision about whether to do the right thing depend on my answer?"

"I don't know, but please tell me."

"She's still a little angry, but mostly just sad. I think in the long run she'll be okay, but never the same. Hotch, I _really_ think that if you told her what you just told me, you guys could fix things. I have no doubt. For her to know that she meant as much to you as you did to her would probably really help. And even if she didn't give you another chance, at least you'd be giving her peace of mind by letting her know it wasn't her fault. Because I think she still wonders whether she chased you off somehow by something she did or said. She said the change was really abrupt and she wondered what she'd done."

"But you think she'll be okay?" Hotch pressed on, ignoring the rest of what JJ had said.

JJ ran a delicate finger under each eye and glanced toward the living room. Emily was nowhere to be seen. "I have the feeling that if I tell you she'll be okay, you'll walk away."

"I'll always stick around. I'll want to know how she is," Hotch said sincerely. "Just tell me, please. I need to know."

"I—I can't meddle in this, Hotch."

"You already have."

"Then I can't anymore." She gave him an out-of-the-blue angry look. "You owe Emily the chance to decide, that's all I'm going to say. If she were to give you a second chance, would you be ready for her _this_ time?"

"I really don't know."

"How can't you know? You've spent all this time away from her and you're still coming around to ask about her. It's not over. Go talk to her. She's in the living room." JJ pointed swiftly off in the direction of all the chatter.

"I can't. And you can't. You can't tell her what I said." Hotch's frown distracted JJ from the hint of terror in his eyes.

"As much as I want to, I won't. But I will tell you I think you're making a _very_ bad move here. That could be the rest of your life sitting in the other room and you're just going to walk away because you're scared of how things might turn out."

"And you're right. But let that be my mistake to make. Please."

"I will. Just keep in mind that your mistakes don't affect only you."

"Thank you," Hotch said without a hint of gratitude.

"Hotch, why did you tell _me_ how you feel, but not her?" JJ asked in one last desperate attempt to break him down.

Hotch stood still, his chin to his chest and his hands buried in his pockets. "I don't trust myself not to hurt her again. I walked away when things got uncomfortable once. And I let Haley go, too, instead of fighting for her. I don't know if I can honestly say I would never do that again."

"That's sweet and all, but guess what. I don't trust that I'm going to be a good mother every day, that I'm going to do everything right. But do I run away from it? No. I wake up every morning and do the best I can."

"I thought you said you weren't meddling anymore?" Hotch said once he knew he was backed into a corner.

"Fine," JJ breathed. She tried to lighten up before saying, "I really think you two will be able to fix this someday. But only if you're willing to try."

—

"Emily?" Jack asked quietly as he approached his estranged friend.

Emily's mouth opened in delight and she set her wine down on an end table. She crouched down to pick up the boy, who held his arms wide open once he confirmed he wasn't talking to a stranger that just looked like Emily.

"Hi, sweetheart," she cooed, grunting as she hoisted him up onto her hip. "How are you? How is preschool?"

"Fun," Jack said with heart wrenching sadness as he plopped his head against Emily's chest and wrapped his arms around as much of her shoulders as he could.

"Well that's great," she

said, planting a kiss in his hair. She wanted to tell him she'd missed him, but thought better of it.

He, however, was only five and had no such filter. "I miss you. Can you come over now?"

"Oh…" Emily sighed and rubbed circles over Jack's back as she swayed gently side-to-side with him. "It's not quite that simple."

"Why?"

"That kind of thing is up to your daddy."

"Why?"

Emily tried not to laugh. "Because it's his and your house, not mine."

"Then I say I want you to come over."

Emily couldn't suppress a giggle this time. "I know you do, sweetie, but…here, let's sit down." She weaved through other guests before finding an empty chair to sit in with Jack in her lap. "You are _heavy_, little mister. Have you been eating your vegetables?"

Jack nodded, but Emily's attempt at sidetracking him failed completely. "Why can't you come over? Don't you want to?"

"Jack, sweetie, grown-ups sometimes just…stop being friends. And they stop…coming over to each other's houses," she tried to explain in five-year-old terms.

"Why?"

"Because grown-ups are very strange that way. Sometimes they do things without knowing why."

"But you and Daddy are friends."

Emily couldn't bear to tell him the whole truth. "Not as much as we used to be, and that's okay. That happens. It's part of being a grown-up."

"Can you still come over to play with me?" Jack's little puppy dog eyes made it difficult for Emily to keep her own dry.

"Maybe someday, we'll see." Hotch appeared five feet away. "Look, it's your daddy."

Hotch simply nodded at Emily, then crouched down to the ground. "C'mon, Jack, it's time to go."

Emily glanced solemnly down at Jack, who clung to her more tightly at Hotch's announcement that they were leaving. "But we just got here," Jack whined.

"We have other parties we need to go to," Hotch said, holding his arms out. Jack shook his head, and, holding tight to the straps on Emily's dress, slammed his head into her, facing away from his father. "Jack, you need to listen to me."

"Jack," Emily said gently. "You need to go with your daddy, okay?" She pried his little fingers from around her dress straps and lifted him out of her lap. "Bye, sweetie."

"Bye Emily." Jack pouted and stomped over to his dad.

"Where's your jacket?" Hotch asked his son.

"I took it off."

"Well, go find it and put it back on, please." Hotch ruffled a hand through Jack's hair and took a quick glance toward Emily to see where she was looking, to read her. Her eyes were dead set on his. "Sorry," he said. "It's already past his bedtime. He's getting cranky."

"No need to apologize. I miss him. It was nice to see him." Emily rubbed her palms against her pale knees.

Hotch nodded distantly, seemed to Emily as if he was debating something.

"Were you in the kitchen talking to JJ?" Emily asked.

Hotch nodded, still staring off into space.

"What about?"

"Just small talk," Hotch said right before Jack reappeared with his coat. "All right, kiddo," Hotch said enthusiastically, buttoning up Jack's coat for him. "Say goodnight."

Jack took advantage of his permission to go to Emily again and ran to hug her leg. "Bye."

Emily leaned over and kissed Jack's forehead as he looked longingly up at her. "Bye, Jack." She found it difficult to peel her eyes off the space he had occupied once he ran off to join Hotch on the way out. By the time she looked up, they were both gone.

"Emily?" Rossi asked from across the room, soon deciding to approach.

"Hey," Emily said with a wave. She now realized two rogue tears were trickling down her cheeks.

"You all right?" Rossi pulled a chair over and sat in front of Emily.

"Oh, I'm fine. I just had a really long day." Emily was thankful that Rossi hadn't seemed to have seen Hotch at all, so even if he didn't believe her tears were just stress tears, he probably wouldn't figure out the real trigger. "I think I'm gonna call it a night."

"You okay to drive?"

Emily sniffed and nodded repeatedly as she stood up. "Yeah, I'm fine. Thanks. I'm going to go tell JJ I'm off. Goodnight." She accepted a hug from him and walked away.

**A/N: Thanks again for reading! Please leave a review if you have a moment. :)**


	13. History Repeating?

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews so far…I hope you're enjoying :)**

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Emily," Hotch said. She'd taken to staring across the room and ignoring Hotch altogether.

"What?" she asked, clearly dazed and confused, coming back from another time and place.

"I asked you if you thought you could do this alone, and you completely…spaced out. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah," Emily sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. "I was just thinking…"

"About something in specific?"

"Well…I randomly remembered you and Jack at JJ's Christmas party." It felt to Emily like that had been eons ago, but it had only been two months.

Hotch's heart sank. He'd hoped they would make some progress. And it felt like they had been making some over the last few minutes, reasoning with one another, coming to the conclusion that them raising the children together was at least certainly what JJ wanted. But with Emily thinking about how he had talked to JJ about something at the party but subsequently snubbed Emily, Hotch feared they were probably going to take some steps backward. "I'm sorry about that night."

Emily nodded slowly, her hands in a praying position in front of her mouth. "I wasn't actually thinking about the interaction between you and me," she said. "I was thinking about Jack."

"Oh. What about him?"

"I don't know. I just…I've really, _really_ missed him all this time. But…" Emily paused to laugh despite herself. "I was remembering how he didn't want to listen to you that night."

"He was being kind of bratty," Hotch admitted. "I think it's only fair to let you know that he's missed you probably more than you've missed him. But he doesn't have to anymore."

"I suppose. In any case, I think you handled him well. I think that sometimes I forget that you're also a dad. Not just my friend."

Hotch tried to catch Emily's eye once she spoke that final word, but she expertly avoided his gaze. "Present tense?"

"I don't hate you, Hotch. You know that, right?" Emily said, chewing her lip and finally granting him eye contact.

"Frankly, I'm not sure—"

"I don't. I really don't hate you. Maybe I'll never trust you in the way I once did but maybe that's not really necessary." Emily's eyes dropped to the floor. "You're a good dad to Jack, or at least you were back when, you know…I think you're right. We can get over what happened, and maybe it won't ever be the same, but I trust that you won't run off again. And not because of whether you care about me—it's just about the kids. And I think that…as long as I know you won't leave once things get difficult—"

"Things are already difficult, and I'm not going anywhere—"

"Let me finish. As long as I know you won't leave once things get difficult, then we can do this. I think all I need to be sure of is that I'm not going to be left alone again."

"Emily, look at me." When she did, he went on. "The decision to cut you off from me and from Jack is something I'll regret forever, no matter what the outcome of this is, no matter whether we get back to that place or not. Knowing that I hurt you tears me apart. I'll never do that again, and it _is_ because I care about you, not only because I want to do right by the kids."

"I don't want to talk about us."

"This is _all_ related. Your fear of being abandoned is because of me. You didn't have that until that day you came to me and made me your confidant. That part of the bond that held us together made you extremely vulnerable, and that's my fault. I shouldn't have let you carry on like that. And I'm not blaming you. I'm just saying, the reason you're scared of being left alone is because we just got…too close." _And when we got too close, I left_, he thought_._ "And when I left, a big part of your life went away. You had JJ, but not in the same way, and only because you were trying to be selfless and keep your burdens to yourself. So this_ is_ about us. It all comes back to what I did to you."

"Are you trying to prove a point?"

"Yes, my point is that we can't tiptoe around this. If you want to be mad at me, be mad at me. I don't want you to just ignore all of that because you want to figure out what to do with the kids. How do we know we'll make the right choice if you're ignoring what I did to you?"

"I'm not ignoring it," Emily insisted. "I'm just trying to say that I trust you with the kids and I think we should do this. Why are you trying to complicate it?"

"Because I need to know you're thinking straight. And you never answered me. Are you willing to do this with me because you think you can't handle the responsibility on your own, or are you doing this because you genuinely think it'll work out? Can you do this on your own?"

"Do _you_ think I can handle it on my own?" Emily countered.

Hotch shook his head, losing patience. "Don't throw my question back at me. Answer it. Can you raise two kids on your own, starting right now?"

"I love kids."

"I know you do," Hotch said edgily, resisting to run his hands through his hair and yank it in frustration. "Please, answer my question, though."

"I can do it on my own."

"So you're _not_ agreeing to this because you need the extra set of hands?"

"I would never do that," Emily said, staring at Hotch. "If I didn't think I could handle it on my own then I…I don't even want to think about the alternatives. I'm sure about this now. I could do it on my own but this is what they wanted and the kids deserve two of us. Let's do this."

"Are you one hundred percent sure?" Hotch asked, rising from his seat.

"Is ninety-nine percent good enough?" Emily stood as well, just so that she wasn't the only one sitting, and started wringing her hands.

"I suppose. As a parent I'm never a hundred percent on anything, to be honest."

"So what do we do now? I mean…should we get the kids in time for them to be at the funeral? Do you think that's necessary?"

"Absolutely. Obviously it's not something they'll remember, but I think when they get older they'll want to know that they were there when everyone else was paying their respects, not off in some strange place. And I think JJ and Will would have wanted them to be there." Hotch felt like he was speaking on Jack's behalf.

"Then…I'll get in touch with the attorney today and let them know what we've decided. He told me once we've decided, he can take care of the rest, the courts shouldn't give us any problem since we were named in the will."

"Good."

"Where are we going to live?" Emily asked suddenly, sitting back down. "There's way more to this decision than I thought." She took a deep breath and let it back out in one giant _whoosh._

"I think we got over the hard part," Hotch said soothingly, taking his seat again as well. "Anyway, for starters, I don't think your apartment is big enough."

"No, it's not. So it's their house, yours, or somewhere else."

"How do you feel about JJ's house?"

"Can I be honest?" Emily tilted her head and eyed Hotch warily.

"Please."

"I don't think I'd be able to move on if I lived there. I'd see her everywhere…I'd be a wreck."

"I understand completely. Do you have any objections to living here?"

Emily looked around her. "Can I get a tour?" She slapped her knees and stood up, then started to laugh and cry at the same time. But the laughing faded as the crying took her over

Hotch wasn't sure if he was allowed, or if it was the best idea, but he stood and took the step that separated him from Emily and wrapped his arms around her while she covered her face with her hands. She didn't pull away from him, which reminded him that she _had_ called him first the night before. Maybe she trusted him with her heart more than she was willing to admit. He tried not to get his hopes up as he smoothed his hands over her back and let her weep.

**June 2010**

Hotch still hadn't forgiven himself for lashing out at Emily almost a month ago. She was once bitten, twice shy, taking great care not to give Jack orders, trying to either stand by silently or support Hotch in his dealings with Jack.

And he hadn't really done a good job at apologizing, either. He hadn't said a thing about losing his temper since the night it had happened. Emily still came over just as often, but she was definitely more reserved than usual. It took Hotch a while to see how much it was truly affecting her. He finally recognized the need for a proper apology one night when he was about to put Jack to bed.

"Can you tuck me in instead of Daddy?" Jack asked Emily once he saw the look on his dad's face that said it was bedtime.

"Umm." Emily looked at Hotch, not feeling awkward at the prospect of Jack wanting him to tuck her in, but clearly somewhat uncertain as to whether it would be okay. "Aaron? Is that okay?"

"Of course it is," Hotch said. "If it's okay with you."

"Of course. Come on, sweetie," she said, rising from her seat next to Hotch and holding out a hand. She came back downstairs a few minutes later to see Hotch eying her uncertainly. "What's wrong?"

"You didn't have to ask whether it was okay to tuck him in," Hotch said calmly.

"Well, I just figured, you know, after what happened when I corrected him—"

"I never properly apologized for that. I'm sorry." Hotch approached her at the staircase. He knew that the problem at hand, the one that formed knots in his stomach, cost him sleep every night, wasn't going to be solved by hugging her. Being physically close to her would only make it harder to separate himself, to do what he knew he had to do soon. But he couldn't ignore the injured look in her eyes that accompanied what she said. He couldn't stand the sight of her hurting any longer. He wasn't a hugger, so he hoped that when he embraced Emily, she would feel how much he meant everything he was about to say. He saw Emily's confused face for a fleeting moment before he opened up his arms and she stepped into them. "I know I'm not very good at apologies. I'm sorry, and I'm happy that Jack looks up to you. And you were right that night. I had no right to be so rude to you." Cheek-to-cheek they stood, Emily remaining quiet, waiting for Hotch to finish. "You mean a lot to me. I trust your judgment with Jack, I really do."

Emily waited for a few seconds to pass by without words before she took her turn. "Are you okay?" she asked, rubbing his back.

"I'm okay. What happened a few minutes ago just made me realize I'd never really set things straight. I can't just expect a half-hearted apology to fix things. And that's all I gave you that night. You deserve better than that." Hotch knew she deserved better than the explanation he was giving, as well. She deserved better than what was to come. As much as he knew he loved her, and as much he thought she probably loved him in return, it didn't feel right. Haley still hadn't been gone for very long and even though they had been divorced for quite some time before her murder, part of him still felt it would be disrespectful of her memory to get on with his life so quickly. Something about the equation didn't make sense, not yet anyway, and he knew Emily was growing impatient with him. Feelings had never been discussed verbally, but he knew her well enough to know that her little looks, the touches, the smiles were becoming more than friendly, and he had returned them in momentary lapses of reasoning. His only choices were to return the affections, or to walk away, to save her the trouble of finding out the hard way that she deserved better.

"It's not a big deal. Really. We're fine. You're forgiven." Emily pulled away and, feeling bold, ran a hand through Hotch's hair, from his forehead to the nape of his neck. She couldn't remember the last time he'd hugged her. It had probably been almost two years ago by now. Maybe the return of his softer side meant something. She searched his eyes for that something but came up empty-handed.

"Daddy?" Jack called from down the hall. Emily immediately removed her hand from Hotch's hair and considered backing away from him.

"One minute, buddy," Hotch called back, letting go of Emily like a hot pan.

"I'd better get going," she said hastily, as if she'd gotten caught with her hand in the cookie jar. "Goodnight. See you in the morning."

"Goodnight." Hotch locked up behind Emily, both of them avoiding each other's eyes and not saying a word' then he walked down the hall. "Back to bed," he said gently to Jack.

"Daddy, why were you hugging Emily?" Jack asked with the most precious curiosity as he climbed back into bed.

"Well, because…" Hotch paused to pull Jack's covers back over him. "I said some not-so-nice things to her a while ago, and I was apologizing." He rubbed his hand over Jack's stomach in small circles.

"So you can get married now?"

Hotch's breath caught in his throat and his hand stopped. "What? Where would you get an idea like that?"

Jack shrugged but didn't catch on that his idea was supposedly so ludicrous.

"Jack, Emily and Daddy are friends. That's all. We're not the kind of people that get married."

"Why not?"

"Well…when you marry someone, it's because you're in love with them and you want to be together forever. Emily and I aren't like that."

"Oh." Jack looked disappointed.

"Goodnight, Jack."

"'Night, Daddy."

As Hotch shut the lights out in the kitchen and living room before turning in, his choice became clearer and clearer. If a five-year-old was catching on, things were obviously progressing too far and too quickly. He typed a quick email to Strauss to set a meeting with her the next day before going to bed, but not to sleep.

**A/N: Please let me know what you think in a quick review! They don't take long and they are very motivating and appreciated :)**


	14. Questionable Decisions

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Hey," Hotch's ex-sister-in-law said when she opened up her front door for Hotch. He always insisted on knocking, even though she had been part of his family for years, and Jack's other caregiver for months.

"Hey," Hotch said tiredly. "Sorry I'm so late. We had a lot to take care of. Still not done…" He wandered into the house. It was already eleven; he assumed Jack would be sleeping but still wanted to take him home.

"I'm really sorry again, about your friends," Jessica said, laying a hand on Hotch's shoulder. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Keeping an eye on Jack is more helpful than you can imagine," Hotch said. "I need every free waking minute I can get."

"Did you call into work?"

"Yeah, they told me to take the rest of the week off." Hotch squeezed his stubbly chin. He didn't remember the last time he'd gone more than a day without shaving. "So, I have some news." He looked at Jessica tentatively.

"Bad news or good news?"

"How about, just…big news?"

"Go on…" Jessica sat at her dining room table and Hotch followed suit.

"Emily and I are taking custody of Will and JJ's kids, Henry and Charlotte. Henry's two and Charlotte's one month now."

"_What?_" Jessica cocked her head and gave Hotch a look that was eerily similar to Haley's face used for the same purpose.

"They left the children to me and Emily…I mean, we are Charlotte's godparents—we agreed to be there in case something happened—and they didn't want to separate the kids."

"So just like that, you're going to take custody of two kids you probably hardly know—"

"—I know them—"

"And what, _split_ them with Emily? Is she the one you used to spend all that time with?"

"Yes. But we're not splitting them." Hotch prepared himself for the storm.

"Are you seriously telling me you're all going to _live together_? When is the last time you even _saw _Emily? I thought you two weren't seeing much of each other anymore."

"We weren't. And that was my doing. But it was a mistake. And we're going to get over that and do the right thing. Some support would be nice."

Jessica shook her head wildly. "You're crazy, Aaron. Absolutely crazy. Have you even thought of how this would affect Jack?"

"Jack and Emily get along fantastically. He's missed her all this time. He saw her a month ago and hasn't stopped talking about her since."

"And what about throwing two more kids at him? And where are you going to live? Have you thought about any of this? And you and Emily aren't even in a relationship. What kind of example are you setting?"

Hotch stood up and scratched his head somewhat guiltily. "We'll be living in my house. Jessica…I need you to trust my judgment."

"I'm sorry, but I don't." She rose to meet him. "You need to talk to Jack about this kind of thing before you shake up his life like this."

"He's more resilient than you give him credit for. Don't forget what he's already experienced, Jessica. He's been through more turmoil than most adults will ever see."

"So why put him through more?"

"This isn't turmoil. He's essentially getting a brother and sister and he'll get to live with Emily, which will thrill him."

"And what if it doesn't? What if he closes up? What if he gets jealous of the attention you're giving the other kids instead of him?"

"It won't be like that," Hotch said.

"I don't believe you. Don't expect me to babysit them, too," Jessica said, almost yelling by now.

"I don't. And I don't expect you to watch Jack anymore, either, especially if that's your attitude toward Charlotte and Henry. Jack can't be expected to feel like part of a family with them if he's treated as part of a different family. It can't work like that."

"And just what are you going to do with Jack then?"

"There is such a thing as daycare. If I remember correctly, Henry and Charlotte were in the best the area has to offer. I'll get Jack in there, too. The world isn't going to end, Jessica."

"I can't believe you're doing this. Can't be_lieve_ it. Tell me, Aaron. Is it because you're trying to impress Emily? Do you want to be with her? Because last time I checked, you didn't need to adopt someone else's kids to pick up a girl."

"Don't drag Emily into this. She's the reason I'm still in one piece after everything that happened with Haley. Is Jack sleeping in his room?"

"Yes. Maybe you should come get him in the morning instead."

"No, I want him home for the night. I'll get him to school in the morning and pick him up afterward."

"You _do_ realize this is my nephew," Jessica said, tears playing at her eyelids.

"And this is my son." Hotch strode off toward the staircase. Once he got to the room Jessica had long since set aside for Jack, he opened the door slowly. Jack was wide awake. "Hey, buddy. Why are you awake? You should be sleeping." He crouched down next to Jack's bed and brushed the hair from his little forehead.

"Why are you and Auntie Jessie fighting?"

Hotch sighed. "We're not fighting. We're just having a big people discussion. Come on, let's go home. I'll even let you sleep in my bed tonight if you want. I missed you."

"I missed you too, Daddy." Jack crawled out from under his covers and into his father's waiting arms.

"Bye, sweetie," Jessica said to Jack as Hotch passed by with him on their way out the door. She stopped Hotch and laid a kiss on Jack's forehead. "Hope it's worth it, Aaron."

"Can you not be antagonistic, please?" Hotch asked. "Little ears…"

"Goodnight." Jessica shut the door more firmly behind them than usual.

As Hotch put a sleepy Jack into his booster seat, he wondered only briefly whether he was doing the right thing. He wasn't cutting Jack off from Jessica completely. _She can come visit Jack as much as she wants to, _Hotch thought. Yes, everything was going to be fine. She would see.

—

Before Emily turned in for the night, she decided she needed to give Garcia a call.

"Hey, sugar, how are you holding up?" Garcia answered, not sounding like she was holding up so well herself.

"I'm making it," Emily said somberly. "How are you?"

"Same as you. Surviving. Did you and Hotch come to a decision?"

Emily gulped. "Yeah. We're taking the kids together. We'll all be living at Hotch's place, selling JJ's place." The terror that nagged at Emily clearly came through in her voice.

Garcia gave a heaving sigh. "I know now isn't the right time, so I'm not going to ask you now, but you know, honey, we're the only girlfriends each other has anymore. I can tell this decision was hard for you. Someday I'm going to want to know the history behind you two. You know that, right?"

Emily laughed, just a little. "I know."

Garcia made an attempt at cutting the tension. "Can I get a teaser?" she joked.

"Cute. What happened with the police today? Did you figure out what happened?"

Garcia quickly moved on with Emily. "They weren't at fault. Another driver ran a swerved around a piece of debris on the road when he was coming in the opposite direction and hit them head on. The police said we can press charges, since the other driver swerved into opposing traffic."

"No way," Emily said instantly. "Enough lives have already been torn apart. Lawsuits like that piss me off. It was an accident. Is the other driver okay?"

"Walked away from the accident with only a couple of scratches. He was driving an SUV."

"Figures," Emily said with a sigh, ready to be done talking about the accident. Done envisioning it. She sighed, then moaned into her pillow. "Hotch has a ton of calls to make, still. I need to go pick out caskets and flowers and things tomorrow, then talk to the attorney about the kids, and I want to talk to Will's brother about the kids. Would you—"

"I'll pick you up at eight and I will bring coffee. And just a warning, Morgan, Rossi, and Reid are having an all night cooking deal and will be dropping a crap ton of food off wherever it's needed. Should I tell them Hotch's?"

"Yeah, I guess." A knot formed in Emily's throat and she had to take a second before speaking. "Thanks, Garcia. This would be so much harder without you. I can't even imagine."

"No need for thanks, honey. My sentiments exactly." Garcia sounded stuffy. "Sleep well. I love you."

"I love you, too. See you in the morning."

As much as Emily wanted to sleep through the night without interruption, she brought her phone up to her room with her just in case. She wondered, as she changed into pajamas despite being tempted to crawl into bed in her slacks and dress shirt, just how much of her history with Hotch should be shared with anyone.

**April 2008**

Hotch gazed solemnly down into the bullpen. The papers were signed, the deed was done. With a few swooshes of a very expensive pen, his wife and son were no longer his in the sense that they once were. And he was already drowning in the loneliness. His team was still hard at work, even though it was nearly quitting time. After a few minutes of him staring out his office window pretending to supervise the activities of his team, Emily, maybe just by chance, took a peep up his way. Instead of averting his eyes from where they had rested for more than a minute now, he let her make what she would of his lonesome stare. She furrowed her brow at him, took a moment to look down at her papers and act naturally, then headed up the stairs.

"What's up?" she asked upon walking in.

Hotch still stood with his hands in his pockets, his eyes still looking out his window. "I signed the divorce papers."

Emily's eyes widened. "Oh…Are you all right?"

Hotch cocked his head and shrugged a little. "Not really, not yet. But I know Jack is in good hands, and I know Haley will be happier this way, so any regrets are purely selfish, I suppose."

Emily decided not to point out that Hotch and Haley had barely been civil with each other for months, so it was surprising to her that he hadn't fought Haley at all on the divorce yet he was acting like he had. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Hotch lifted his eyebrows pensively for a moment, then shook his head and finally glanced at Emily. "I could really go for a beer or twelve right now."

"Say nothing more. Let me go pack up."

—

Four drinks in, Hotch had switched from beer to scotch against Emily's advice. He hadn't said a word about Haley or Jack. He'd talked shop the whole time, or said nothing at all, and wherever he led, Emily followed. He signaled their waitress for his third glass of scotch and another beer for Emily, who'd decided long ago that being sober with a drunk Hotch just wasn't bearable.

Emily's willingness to avoid the topic of the divorce with him was one of the many things he appreciated about her. She knew when to talk some sense into him or guide him in the right direction, and she knew when not to. And right now, she knew not to.

"Weirdest unsub. Go." Emily tipped back the last of her umpteenth beer—she hadn't been counting her own, only Hotch's.

Hotch smiled just barely, looking oddly amused. "They're all pretty weird."

"Cop-out answer." Emily shrugged out of her blazer, now too warm to keep it on. Her mint green v-neck immediately caught the attention of a loner at the bar who apparently couldn't care less that Emily was with a man a good head taller than he and with five too many drinks in him. "Seriously?" she said to Hotch, making a disgusted face and casting a sidelong glance toward the stranger.

"Maybe you should dress a little more modestly," Hotch said before thinking. Even after thinking, he wasn't sure it was a bad thing to say. She'd distracted him more than once with her wardrobe choices.

"I'll dress how I want to," Emily said with a defiant smile.

"Then maybe you shouldn't complain when other people enjoy it," Hotch replied, picking up the scotch their waitress dropped off. He tipped his glass to Emily and she did likewise with her beer, rolling her eyes, before they started talking again.

"I think a girl has a right to wear what she wants without being ogled."

"Oh, come on," Hotch said, eying the food menu. He was suddenly starving. "You don't _want_ to be ogled?" He peered up at her from over the greasy laminated menu.

"Not by just anyone." Emily almost raised her hand to cover her mouth, but instead curled her near-smiling lips inward to stretch her mouth into a thin, taut line. "You thinking of getting something to eat? We shouldn't be drinking on empty stomachs, anyway."

Hotch let Emily's comment hang in the air a moment. In his poor judgment he let his eyes wander a little south.

"I never thought I'd have to say this to you, but I'm up here." Emily smirked and waved a hand up at Hotch.

"Natural reaction, sorry," he said with a grin. Emily wondered why he was such a happy drunk tonight. Normally he was rather depressing after a certain point which he'd passed at least an hour ago.

"Eh, you're half-gone, I forgive you. What do you want to eat, pervert?" She snatched the menu out of his hands.

"Something spicy. Something I'll regret in the morning," Hotch said with a twinkle in his eyes.

Emily cackled. "Okay, what Hotch have I been drinking with all this time? Since when are you a fun drunk?"

Hotch shrugged and loosened his tie and popped the buttons on his collar. _Finally_, Emily thought. She'd been beginning to wonder if he'd ever let himself breathe. "I'm however I want to be when I'm drunk. Normally I only get drunk when I'm upset. The last time I got drunk for shits and giggles was probably when I graduated from law school."

"And you're not upset right now?"

"Ah. Well, yes. But I don't want to be. And therein lies the difference between me now and me four months ago when you practically had to tuck me in to bed."

"How was the morning after that, by the way?" Emily asked somewhat teasingly.

"Not bad enough to learn my lesson, apparently." Hotch flagged down their waitress again with a wave of the menu.

"What can I get for you?"

"Good question. Prentiss, what do you want?"

"The greasiest cheeseburger you can make, with everything on it."

"Fries?"

"Please."

"And you?" The waitress turned toward Hotch, pen at the ready still.

"I'll have what she's having."

—

Emily leaned back against the exposed brick wall and laid a hand over her stomach while Hotch stood in front of the glowing electronic jukebox, perusing the catalog.

"Full?" Hotch asked.

Emily wanted to go back to their seats, but the second Hotch had staggered over to the jukebox and Emily had followed, their waitress had cleared their table for someone else. The place was packed. "I might die. Let's put it that way," Emily answered. But she put back the rest of her beer anyway. "Ugh."

Hotch chuckled. "When does this club music crap stop?"

"Why, what song did you pick?"

"There's nothing good on there," Hotch said, waving the stationary machine away, annoyed. He leaned against the wall, facing Emily.

"What, no Beatles?"

"Nope."

"Huh. Do I want another beer?" she asked him. "I'm insanely full but also insanely thirsty."

"They do make this thing called water, and on the upside, it's free."

"Don't think cheap. It's not like you're picking up my drinks."

"Of course I am," Hotch said incredulously, his words finally slurring together, catching up to his somewhat bloodshot eyes. "If I wasn't such a fuck-up, we wouldn't be standing here drunk right now."

"Well, I kind of counted on that, hence all the Guinness."

"Can I have some?" Hotch reached for Emily's beer.

"Sure, go for it." Emily handed the empty bottle over to Hotch, who sneaked a hand to the small of her back before tipping the bottle against his lips. Chills ran down her spine at the touch of his hand, but she tried to maintain her anticipatory grin.

"We need another beer." He shook the empty bottle and gave Emily a look that let her know she'd gotten him and he appreciated the joke.

"I think you're right. Two, or do you want to share?"

"I'm in the sharing mood," Hotch said. He was about to take off for the bar when Emily grabbed his arm.

"The bar's packed. You're a straight guy. You'll never get the bartender's attention. Here, hold my blazer." Emily handed her blazer over to Hotch. He watched her push her chest shamelessly through a couple rows of hopefuls and flaunt it to the young male bartender, then stride back over to him with a fresh bottle, nearly tripping over her feet on the way. "Oh, man, I don't remember the last time I got hammered on beer. Usually I'm a woman on a mission and I go straight for the hard stuff. Here, you get the first sip."

"Thanks." Hotch kept his eyes open and locked on Emily with his first drink, then passed the bottle back to her. When she raised the bottle to her own lips, still standing in front of him, she felt a pair of hands at her waist. She stopped the bottle mid-journey and gave him a playful, questioning look.

"What're you doing, Hotch? _Hey_, did you throw my blazer on the floor? That was expensive," she whined. But Hotch ignored her whining and pulled her close, close enough to where she had to move her beer hand out of the way to let their chests touch. Her dark-rimmed eyes stared slightly up at him, stunned, but then a grin played at her lips. She found herself compelled to take another drink while Hotch's face approached her long neck. She hummed against the rim of the bottle when she felt his mouth press against her skin. She felt guilty admitting even to herself that she'd been hoping for a long time for a moment like this. Maybe a more sober one, though. When Hotch started to suck on her throat, she set their beer down on the nearest table (its occupants gave her a strange look) and covered Hotch's hands at the small of her back. Her eyelids drooped as her eyes rolled back. When Hotch's lips began to dot a path up her neck with quick, fervent kisses, she cocked her head to afford him more skin to devour.

Emily's eyes were still closed when Hotch's slow, hot breath hit her lips only a second before he kissed her. She'd expected it, but she still froze for a moment at the feel of his eager lips. Hotch considerately paused. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Emily mumbled, erasing the gap between them and letting Hotch know by nibbling his bottom lip that she was far better than okay. Emily pulled the palms of her hands up Hotch's wrists, forearms, and biceps, until at last she reached his firm shoulders, which she used to tug him closer. Right after one long sigh, Hotch opened his mouth wide and attacked Emily's. To him, she seemed quite agreeable to skipping any further pleasantries. The humming that traveled from her tongue to his when she moaned drove his hands downward. Clumsily he rotated them half a turn until he had her sandwiched between him and the wall, which meant that his hands were now crammed between the wall and her backside. A hearty squeeze of her ass jolted her, causing her to open her eyes momentarily. She couldn't keep them open for long, though, not with how wide open her mouth needed to be to keep the kiss in its current frantic state. Frantic, but not messy. No, Hotch was not a sloppy kisser. Maybe an extremely eager one, but Emily had to give him kudos for the only sign of his inebriation being the taste of scotch and beer lingering on his tongue. His lips were deft, his tongue agile.

Emily needed air, literally felt like she might pass out if she didn't get it. She backed out of the kiss and showed Hotch her neck, which he gladly took to ravishing again. "Where's your jacket?" Emily asked, panting.

"I think I left it at our table." His tongue darted out from between his swollen lips and made her giggle like a little girl. "We'll get it on the way out." He worked his way back to Emily's lips and took them as his own once more, sliding his tongue across her teeth before she opened up for him again. "Speaking of which," he said when he broke away a minute later for another breather, "let's get out of here."

**A/N: For those of you who wondered what Hotch and Emily were talking about when they discussed their joint decision-making skills in the May 2008 flashback (it was so brief you may have missed it), hopefully this sheds some light on that. This scene is not over.**

**Please leave a review :) **

**Thanks to SussiRay for the plot discussions!  
**


	15. Ulterior Motives

**A/N: There is more of that April 2008 flashback yet to come, but not yet…you didn't think I would be **_**that**_** nice, did you?**

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Hotch heard a knock at his front door late Wednesday morning while he was on the phone with the caterers. He opened up to see Rossi standing on the porch with a giant red cooler. Hotch gestured him inside and gave him the "one second" finger. "I know it's late notice, and I know it will cost extra…I'm aware, yes. Please, just do it…Thank you. What's all this?" Hotch asked Rossi as the latter walked through the house to the kitchen and slid the cooler onto the counter.

"Food. Come on, I have more."

"You bring food to grieving family members," Hotch said. "The only family they have is Will's brother, Harry."

"And where is he?" Rossi asked.

"At his hotel. I tried to get him involved with the funeral arrangements, but he showed no interest."

"Did you invite him over? Maybe he would like to feel welcome." Rossi asked.

"I actually did. He declined."

"What's his deal?"

"I frankly don't even know why he's here. I don't think he and Will were on good terms. Will and JJ left Harry out of their will completely, even explicitly excluded him as a potential guardian for the children," Hotch explained. "So I don't know what his deal is."

"Well, I guess that's their business and not ours," Rossi said.

"My sentiments exactly. I'd rather just pretend he's not here now."

"Anything I can help with?"

Hotch just stared at all the cooler on his counter. "You did _this_. Don't you think that's enough?"

"That's just protocol. You're arranging a funeral, you're too busy to cook. You need comfort food. And the boys and I were cooking for fourteen hours straight, so you'd better eat it. Where are the girls?"

"Picking out caskets and flowers and talking to the attorney." Emily had called Hotch that morning to update him on her plans, but hadn't told him that she'd planned to visit Harry.

"How are they holding up? Help me bring the rest of the food inside," Rossi said.

"They're functioning, which, after the death of their best friend, is impressive. Almost scary," Hotch admitted. He stepped into his boots by the front door and followed Rossi outside. "Dave. What the hell?" he asked when Rossi opened up the back door of his car.

"I told you, lots of cooking. Here." Rossi passed Hotch an identical cooler. "We even had to go buy coolers and more dishes."

"This is…thank you, Dave. I think everyone should get together here sometime this weekend. I think we all need to have some time together outside the funeral proceedings."

"That sounds like a fine idea. All right, let's get inside," Rossi said, grabbing the last cooler and bumping the car door shut with his hip. "You do something to the house since you bought it? It seems different." he asked offhandedly once they reached the kitchen again.

"Just got the kitchen re-tiled, that's all," Hotch said, crouching to set down his cooler. "Don't tell Emily you've been here already, though. She's upset I didn't tell her about the house until, what was it, yesterday?"

"You never told her about the house?"

"We hadn't talked in a while—"

"You saw her at the baby's baptism, did you not?"

Hotch didn't answer, just started emptying the fridge of non-essential contents to make room for the food that would never fit.

"You two were good friends, Hotch. We all knew it. What happened?"

"We just…grew apart once I left. That's all."

"Good friends don't grow apart just because they stop working together."

"They do all the time, Dave."

"You obviously don't want to talk about Emily."

"I don't. Good job," Hotch muttered.

"Hey, you're the one who brought her up." But for the meantime, Rossi tried to grant Aaron his wish. "So what's happening with the kids?"

Hotch stayed ducked behind the fridge door. "Emily and I were more or less left the children."

"What? More or less? What does that mean?"

"It means JJ and Will updated their will after Charlotte's baptism and set it up so that Emily and I would…be the only people who could take the kids."

"Both of you?"

"Yes, both of us." Hotch reached up to the counter for a casserole dish and slid it into the fridge.

"_Together_?"

"Together."

"And you're going to do it?"

"Yes."

"Are you fucking _crazy_, Aaron?"

Hotch couldn't hide from Rossi any longer, so he stood up and closed the refrigerator door, but he didn't have to look at him. "It's what Will and JJ wanted. They didn't want the kids separated, and they wanted two parental figures. And they wanted them to live in one household, not bounce around. Can you blame them?"

"Oh, one household? So now you two are gonna play _house_? This just keeps getting better. Aaron, listen to yourself."

Hotch glared at Rossi. "I'm doing what I can with what I have, Dave."

"So you're seriously gonna shack up with a friend that wasn't good enough of a friend for you to tell her you bought a new house, to raise some kids that aren't yours, because of some verbal trickery in a will? You're not legally bound to this, you know that, right?"

"I know I'm not. But Emily's set on taking the kids with or without my help."

"So let her. Emily's a strong woman. She doesn't need you, Aaron. What about Jack? Have you told him?"

"Not yet, but I will."

"Well, of course you will. Once you have three people moving in, I think he'll figure out something's up."

"Dave…"

Rossi paused but wasn't finished yet. "Have you even discussed the deaths with Jack?"

"Yes. I explained they'd gone to heaven, just like Haley. He knows."

"How do you think he'll react to having a new brother, a new sister, and a new mother?"

"They won't be labeled as such, or necessarily treated as such, and I really can't handle the interrogation right now. Jessica just put me through the wringer last night. Same questions."

"I'm sorry, but I can't stand by and watch while you—I don't even know what you're doing, to be honest. Usually I know what you're up to, but now I don't. Are you and Emily in some sort of relationship now? Is that why you feel obligated to do this?"

"What would make you say that?"

"Because you don't voluntarily shack up with a woman who's just a friend. Not unless you want something from her."

"We're friends and that's all we'll ever be. I'm doing this for JJ and Will, whose kids deserve the best they can get, and I'm doing it for Emily, because she's my friend and shouldn't have to do this on her own. And I _am_ Charlotte's godfather. It would be wrong of me to walk away from her. I made a promise. And since she and Henry go together and Reid and Garcia work fifteen hours a day, then this is the solution that works the best for everyone."

Rossi's hands flew up in resignation. "I don't get it, but I guess I don't have to, do I?"

"I'd appreciate your support, even if you don't understand, yes."

Rossi gave Hotch one final scrutinizing look before his stern demeanor melted away. "Then I support you. You haven't always made the best decisions under pressure, but you usually do. I hope this works out for the best." He sounded as sincere as he could.

"Thank you."

"So, is she moving in here?"

"That's the plan."

"When do you get the kids?"

"Maybe tonight. I'll find out as soon as Emily does," Hotch said.

"How are you going to address the absence of their parents?"

"I have no idea, to be honest. Do you tell a two-year-old someone died or do you tell them someone went to sleep, or went away forever, or went to a very happy place?"

"Got me," Rossi said. "Maybe you should ask CPS. They probably deal with that all the time.

"Maybe I will. Anyway, I was going to go over to Will and JJ's and pick up what necessities I can fit in my car. Care to join me?"

"Sure, but do you even know what they need? Emily was the one babysitting. She probably knows where everything is. Maybe she should be the one doing this while you take over one of her duties. That would make more sense."

"She doesn't want to be in their house," Hotch said, grabbing his keys on their way outside. He hoped the food wouldn't spoil before he could get some ice and coolers back home. "At least, she didn't want to live there. She said it would be too hard to move on."

"Why so…protective all of a sudden? What am I missing here?"

"Dave," Hotch said, shooting him a warning glance. "I'm just trying to be a good friend. That's what she needs. End of discussion. You gonna help me or not?"

"I'll figure you out one of these days. I'm onto you."

—

Emily knocked on Harry LaMontagne's hotel room door three times. A somewhat disheveled, taller version of Will opened up, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

"Can I help you?" he said in the same drawl.

"I'm Emily, Emily Prentiss." Emily held out her hand.

"You're…" Harry thought as he stretched out his hand. "…Will and JJ's friend."

"I am. It's…nice to meet you."

"Likewise. Come on in." Emily nodded, smiled, and stepped inside. "What brings you by?"

"Well, first, I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am about your brother and sister-in-law. I can't imagine the pain you must be going through right now."

"Thank you," Harry said quietly, following Emily back into the room. "Sorry, my stuff is all over. Wasn't expecting visitors."

"Oh, no, that's all right."

"Have a seat,"

Emily sat at the edge of one of the queen size beds. Harry leaned against the desk across from her. "So it's just you here? Do you have a wife or kids?"

"No, ma'am. None of that. Just me."

"Sorry for being blunt, but…if you didn't plan on helping out with the funeral arrangements—which is fine—we've been able to take care of everything—then why did you come ahead of time?"

"I thought it would look…strange if I didn't come running. Will was my brother." The lack of emotion on Harry's face disturbed Emily. She'd spent the better part of the morning crying at a funeral home, picking out caskets and flowers for the funeral of this man's brother, and he didn't look like he'd flinched since getting the news.

"Were you and Will close?" she asked tentatively.

"We, uh...haven't really spoken much since he moved here. And even before then, we weren't too friendly. Never were."

Emily nodded slowly, processing. "Have you wondered about the children?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asked.

"Charlotte and Henry. Your niece and nephew. You haven't even asked where they are."

"Where are they?"

Emily tried not to let her bewilderment show. "Well, they're with Child Protective Services right now, but Aaron, the one who talked to you on the phone, he and I will be taking custody of them. We'll be picking them up tonight. JJ and Will left them to us, more or less."

"So you've already seen the will?"

"I'm the executor of their estate, actually."

"When should I meet with their attorney?"

Emily's heart pounded in her chest. Her mind ran first to the possibility of Harry fighting her and Hotch for custody of the children. "What about?"

"About the rest of the will."

Emily caught on. "Well, there's…I'm sorry but your name isn't mentioned in it, Harry." Knowing his concern wasn't at all over the kids, she decided not to bother telling him that he _had_ been named in the will, but only to be prevented from taking the kids. "They didn't leave you anything."

"Oh." Harry scratched the back of his neck and nodded. "I see."

Emily knew she didn't have very long before she would lose her temper with him and say something she would regret. "I'll see you at the funeral in the morning. Do you need a ride?"

"No, I went and rented a car. See ya there." He stood straight up again and Emily understood that was her cue to leave. She was apparently no longer welcome.

"Okay. Goodbye." Emily nodded meekly and left as fast as she could. She tore her purse apart in search of her phone and called Hotch as soon as she found it.

"Hello," he answered.

"He's after their fucking money," Emily hissed, mashing in the elevator call button. "_That's_ why he's here. That's why he didn't care to help out with anything. All he wanted was to see if they left him anything. He—"

"Emily, calm down," Hotch said. "You don't know this."

"I do, Hotch."

"I'm sure there's more to it. Sure, he's kind of standoffish, but—"

"Hotch, he didn't even ask me about the kids—"

"Wait, you talked to him?" Hotch asked.

"I stopped by his hotel room, yeah. I'm leaving right now. Why?"

"Well, no reason, I guess. I didn't know you were going to see him, but it's not like you have to report to me or something. I just didn't know you wanted to talk to him."

"Well, now I kind of wish I hadn't. I feel like I'm gonna be sick. The stuff we dealt with on cases was awful, but at least we knew those weren't _normal_ people doing those unspeakable things." Emily stepped onto the elevator when it opened and pressed the lobby button. "Harry's just a regular guy. And he's a—Hotch?" She growled, realizing she'd lost reception on her phone. She called him back the instant she was back into the lobby.

"Did I lose you?" Hotch asked.

"Elevator," Emily said. "Anyway, he's a bastard, and if I had things my way, he wouldn't be there tomorrow. But this is about JJ and Will, not me."

"Just because he didn't ask about the kids doesn't mean—"

"Hotch—"

"Let's talk about it when we regroup, okay? Dave and I are at Will and JJ's picking up some of the kids' things. Speaking of which, did you find out when we can go get the kids?"

"The attorney said the paperwork should go through by the end of the day and we can pick them up tonight. You need to bring some documentation, but we can go through that when I get back to your place."

"Wow, okay. I was expecting it would be soon, tonight even, but at the same time, I'm still kind of shocked. Sorry. Is there anything you can think of that absolutely needs to be packed right away?"

"Probably a lot more than you're actually packing. Why don't I just meet you two at JJ's?"

"Are you sure? You said you didn't want to be there."

"I said I didn't want to _live_ there. I'll be okay."

"All right," Hotch said, not sounding entirely convinced. "I'm sure we could use the extra trunk space, maybe save a trip."

"Okay. I was thinking…Should I keep Charlotte at my place tonight and you take Henry, maybe?" Emily was approaching Garcia's waiting car.

"Why?"

"Well, I don't have anything of mine at your place yet. I'm sure when they said the kids had to be raised in the same household they didn't mean we couldn't take a second to adjust."

"Are you rethinking things?" Hotch sounded scared.

"No, no, no. It'll just be easier for me to get ready in the morning if I'm at my place, and I don't mind taking the baby, that way you only have one extra person to get ready in the morning. Henry's pretty laid-back and he listens well. He should be no problem."

"Are you sure? The guest bedroom is already furnished. It's all yours. It's just as big as the master bedroom, it just doesn't have an attached bathroom—"

"Hotch, it's fine."

"Okay…I just don't want you to feel unwelcome. It's your house now, too."

"No, it's not, but let's not argue about that now. We'll be on our way in a minute here. See you at JJ's."

Emily sighed when she plopped into the passenger seat.

"How'd it go?" Garcia asked.

Not wanting to be a gossip, and suddenly ashamed of calling Hotch and telling him what she'd found out, Emily just shook her head. "Do you mind running to Will and JJ's? Hotch and Rossi are picking up stuff for the kids and they could probably use help figuring out where everything is."

"Say no more."

**A/N: Please take a moment to leave a review. I really appreciate them!**


	16. The Couch

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**

**February 2011 (Present Day)  
**

"What did Harry actually say?" Hotch asked Emily as they loaded some of Charlotte's clothes into a duffel bag. Rossi and Garcia were down the hall packing Henry's things.

"Forget about it. He's just a scumbag and after tomorrow we never have to see him again."

"I want to know."

"Promise you won't freak out?"

"Like you did?" Hotch asked.

"That was in the heat of the moment. I'm better now. But you seem to want to believe the best in him, and maybe we should keep it that way. Just pretend I overreacted, which I did. So no pretending needed—"

"Just tell me what he said," Hotch insisted, making brief eye contact with Emily.

"He just asked me what was in the will when I told him about you and me taking the kids. At first I thought he might want to fight us for the kids but then I caught on that he was interested in money. When I told him they didn't leave him anything, he just said 'Oh, I see.' And that was it. Don't think anything of it, though. Maybe there was an old record collection he thought Will would leave him or something. Maybe he's not after anything substantial."

"Doubtful."

"You sound angry. Don't be. There's a leech like him in every family. Let's talk about something else. Like getting the kids tonight. That's good news. Did you tell Rossi?" Emily tried. Thankfully, Hotch bit at the opportunity to change the subject, or at least respected her enough to walk away from it.

"Yeah."

"What did he think?" Emily asked.

Hotch eyed her warily. "You don't want to know."

Emily frowned. "I wonder if everyone thinks this is a terrible idea," she said with a sigh.

"I say," Hotch said loudly as he threw a couple of bags over his shoulder, "That we have the kids' best interests at heart and as long as we think this is a good idea and we think we can handle this, then everyone else will see in due time that it's fine."

"You're sure we've made the right decision?" Emily asked.

Hotch paused before he answered; he didn't want his response to sound reflexive. "I am. Are you?"

Emily nodded. "Yeah. I guess I just needed to hear that you were still sure."

"I know exactly what you're thinking about," Hotch said.

"Yeah? What's that?" Emily dared him.

"Emily, it's been, what, almost three years since then? We're not stupid together. We _did something_ stupid together. But we're not stupid. We can make the right choices when we're clearheaded. And sober," he said with a laugh he couldn't keep down. He hoped it would at least lighten the mood.

Emily rolled her eyes and walked over to the changing table to stock up on diapers, somewhat embarrassed that Hotch had been able to read her that easily.

"Why do you keep going back to that? I thought we did a pretty good job of pretending it never happened," Hotch remarked, putting the bags down, not ready to leave just yet anymore.

"Yeah, well, when you left, I had a lot of time to wonder why." Emily tucked in her lips and stacked diapers into the box with the rest of them, which she found on the floor of the closet. "Sorry, that was uncalled for. I'm being counterproductive."

"Don't apologize. You're not the only one who's bad at pretending."

**April 2008**

Though Emily's head felt like it was swimming, she somehow found the ability to focus on a vision of being with Hotch completely. It was with this goal in mind that she grabbed her blazer, let Hotch grab hold of her hand, and followed him on newly steady feet across the bar. He stopped to close out their tab (Emily didn't argue about him picking up her drinks anymore) and grab his jacket from their table on his way out.

"Need your keys," Hotch said once they made it outside. He held his hand out expectantly.

"What? No way in hell either one of us is driving—" Hotch blocked off any further speech with his domineering mouth. Emily felt herself gravitate toward him again, ready to make out with him in front of a bar while other patrons walked in and out, if that was what he wanted. But he didn't hold his lips to hers for long. "I just need to get my briefcase."

"Oh, okay." Emily cleared her throat and felt around her purse for her keys. "I'll call a cab," she said, dizzy once again when Hotch nodded and walked off toward her car in the side parking lot. By the time she'd looked up the number for a local cab company on her phone, one was pulling up to drop off a few partiers. She nearly face planted in her haste to procure the cab for her and Hotch.

"Where to?" the driver asked as Emily stumbled into the back seat.

"I, uh…actually don't know yet. I'm waiting for someone."

"I'm starting the meter," the driver said impatiently.

"Go ahead." Emily left the door open and slid over to the far seat so Hotch could get in. He appeared a minute later with his briefcase. "Did you lock the car?" Emily asked.

Hotch nodded and dropped the keys into Emily's purse, which she'd dropped on the floor. She giggled when he slid across the leather seat to kiss her again. "We need to tell this fine gentleman where we're going."

"My place okay?" Hotch asked, his eyelids drooping as he placed his lips near Emily's ear.

"Sure." Emily didn't care where they went. Hell, if they didn't hurry, she wouldn't put it past herself to take him in the back seat of the cab.

"My place it is, then," Hotch said before taking Emily's lips captive again.

The cab driver snapped his fingers. "Okay, buddy, I don't know where the hell _your place_ is."

—

Neither Hotch nor Emily had regained proper judgment when they stepped into Hotch's dark apartment. It took a few moments for Hotch to find the light switch behind him, what with Emily pressing him up against the wall and stealing every breath from him. A dim lamp lit a few feet away and they both kicked off their shoes. A _thump_ announced Hotch's briefcase landing somewhere. Emily pulled Hotch against her again by the hand, then started to step toward the hall. Hotch hummed against her lips once they met again.

"Couch," was all he said. Emily sighed, not out of frustration, but out of the roaring fire that lit in her belly at that syllable Hotch uttered. Next thing she knew, Hotch was sitting on the couch in the still mostly dark living room and she was straddling him, her face pressed against his.

**_- Content edited starting here - _**

Things got far more heated than they would have if either one of them were sober. Before anything below the waist could come off, however, the phone rang on the counter.

"I'll let the machine get it," Hotch hummed against Emily's breast before snatching up her other nipple, now tweaking the first with his fingers.

She moaned her approval of this plan.

"You've reached Aaron Hotchner. I'm unable to come to the phone right now. Please leave your name, number, and a message, and I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you."

"So polite," Emily said with a little giggle while the machine beeped shrilly She sighed before shoved her hands between Hotch's back and the couch, scratching it on the way back up. In response, his large hands pulled her closer to his body with a deadly squeeze and digging fingers.

"Aaron, it's me." Haley's assertive voice paused. "You never confirmed with me that you were taking Jack tomorrow night. I just wanted to check. Let me know. Also, I was wondering if you signed the papers yet. Again, let me know." The machine beeped again, and once it stopped, the only sound left in the apartment was nervous panting. Emily realized her eyes had glazed over and she fought to focus. Her lips rolled into her mouth, her chin at her chest. She saw Hotch's fac in a compromising position, eyes as wide as saucers, but that was no fault of his own. She sat back down in his lap to give him some room.

**- Original content resumes here - **

"What on earth are we doing?" she said between shallow breaths.

Hotch took inhaled deeply sighed on the way out. He wanted to hold Emily longer, even if he couldn't kiss her. He wanted her body where it was, wanted her to look him in the eye. But he let her crawl out of her lap. Her back facing to him, he watched as she picked up her bra off the couch, watched her shoulder blades jut out as she re-clasped it. Haley's voice had the effect of an icy cold shower, and Hotch felt his erection diminish. Once it was no longer visible, he found Emily's shirt for her, which she'd been searching for, then buckled his belt.

"Thanks," she mumbled. She knew she was still drunk, but she had to get home. She put her shirt on, then took it off again so she could put it on forwards.

"Emily…" Hotch felt it prudent to follow suit and put his own t-shirt back on. She still wouldn't turn toward him.

"What the hell were we thinking?" Emily moaned. "You're not even officially divorced yet…"

"For all intents and purposes, I am. You heard Haley. She's itching to get this done and over with. And so am I. It's just a trip to the courthouse. Would you look at me for just a second?"

Emily finally granted Hotch access to her eyes as she smoothed her t-shirt over her stomach. "None of that changes the fact that you're my boss."

"You're right." Emily stood alone and vulnerable in the middle of the dark living room.

"I should go." Emily walked over to the door and found her shoes. "We should probably forget this ever happened. We were drunk. Us going out after you signed your divorce papers had 'bad idea' written _all_ over it."

Hotch couldn't help but mumble his agreement. But as wrong as it had been, nothing in a long time had felt more right before the damned machine had beeped. He couldn't help but hang onto one last shred of hope, even if now was a horrible time for such decisions, as they'd demonstrated. "You can crash here. You can take my bed, I'll take the couch."

"I think we're both intelligent enough to realize that _that_ has 'bad idea' written all over it as well," Emily said with surprising eloquence, standing, now with her shoes on. She slid on her blazer and grabbed her purse.

"You shouldn't go out alone at night. It's late. You're drunk."

Emily almost considered letting Hotch walk her down to a cab if it would put him at ease, but she thought better of it. "I'll be fine."

"Let me know when you get home, at least?"

"Hotch," Emily whined, dragging a hand down her face.

"I'm allowed to worry even if I'm not allowed to talk about this ever again."

"Fine."

"Then, I guess…this is goodnight."

"Goodnight," Emily said as she slipped out the door.

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Where are we going, Daddy?" Jack asked from the backseat. He'd come along per Emily's advice; she'd figured Hotch could tell him on the ride to pick up Henry and Charlotte rather than bring them into the house unannounced, and Hotch had been keen to take the advice, as he didn't want to leave Jack with Jessica. The transition wouldn't go smoothly, he feared, if Jessica was involved, not only because she was angry about two unfamiliar children moving in, but also because he knew she was less than thrilled about Emily moving in as well. He and Emily had spent the rest of the day packing and unpacking in preparation for Henry and Charlotte's arrival, and had managed to avoid further discussion of their little rendezvous that they both thought about more often than the other would have guessed.

"Well…" Hotch said, regretting the decision to drive. He wished he could look his son in the eyes when he said this. He couldn't catch him in the rear-view mirror. "Remember how I told you Auntie JJ and Uncle Will went to heaven?"

"Like Mommy," Jack said simply.

"Yes, like Mommy. Well, you remember Henry and the new baby, Charlotte, right?"

"Uh huh."

"Well, I have some good news," Hotch said. "Emily is going to live with us." He saw Emily rolling her eyes, but not angrily, at him using her as bait.

"Really?" Jack hollered.

Emily laughed and felt somewhat guilty for it. "Yes, really."

"Because," Hotch said, drawing out the last syllable for dramatic effect, "Emily and I are going to be Henry and Charlotte's guardians. That's kind of like a mom and dad, but not really. I'm still your daddy. But Henry and Charlotte will be living with us."

"Okay."

"Okay?" Hotch asked. "You sure? Do you have any questions?"

Jack grinned from ear to ear. "Can Emily sleep in my room tonight?"

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**


	17. The Calm Before the Storm

**A/N: Thanks for all the helpful reviews last chapter! I really do read them all and take them into consideration.  
**

"Why are we sitting down?" Jack asked Emily in particular, whose hand he clutched as if his life depended on it. She didn't dream of complaining when her fingers started to fall asleep.

She pulled Jack up into her lap. "Well, your daddy and I signed all the papers, and now we need to wait for them to bring Henry and Charlotte to us so we can take them home."

"When?"

"Jack," Hotch warned. "You need to be patient."

"They said they'll be ready for us soon," Emily said, rubbing Jack's back and pulling him softly against her. She'd known she'd missed him, but it wasn't until he leaned into her and she squeezed him tight that she realized just how much.

"Did the attorney talk to you about social workers earlier?" Hotch asked Emily.

"Yeah. Let's not talk about that right now, though," she said poignantly.

"What's a so-sho worker, Daddy?"

"It's a, uh, person who will come to our house a couple of times just to make sure Henry and Charlotte are okay."

"Why?"

Emily eyed Hotch smugly as he tried to dig himself out of the hole he'd dug. "Well, they want to make sure they're not too sad about their mommy and daddy and that they're having fun."

"Oh." Jack quieted down and the three of them sat in the otherwise empty waiting room for a while in silence, Hotch clearly relieved that Jack's "Why?" hadn't turned into five more. Jack seemed rather content with cuddling with his long lost friend, which made it that much harder for Emily not to continue being angry with Hotch for leaving. But the excitement of getting Charlotte and Henry back allowed her to remain neutral. "I'm hungry," Jack said once his dad started drumming his fingers impatiently against his thigh.

"I know, buddy. We'll be out of here soon and we'll have dinner as soon as we get home, okay?" Hotch said.

"Okay…Emily?"

"Yeah, sweetie?" Emily transferred her gaze from the clock across the room down to Jack and his little puppy dog eyes.

"Can you sleep in my room?" he asked again.

"Jack, I told you, Emily's going to sleep at her house tonight."

"But I want you to sleep at our house," Jack whined to Emily, ignoring his dad.

"Jack—"

"It's okay," Emily said, brushing the sandy blonde hair from Jack's forehead. She smiled fondly at him, then looked soothingly at Hotch. "It's really okay. We'll be doing more moving over the weekend, but I can go grab my things for the wake and funeral, and stay with you tonight, then go get more of my stuff tomorrow after the funeral." At that word Emily eyed Hotch for a millisecond, almost apologetically, because she knew Jack would ask questions.

"What's a funeral?" Jack asked.

"It's where we say goodbye to people when they go to heaven, like we said goodbye to your mommy," Hotch said, watching Emily warily. Her cheeks and nose flushed and he knew what was coming. "Can you come sit with me for a minute, buddy?"

Jack left Emily's lap and stood by Hotch's knee. Emily gave Hotch a grateful glance and tried not to be obvious to Jack about rushing from the waiting room.

"Where's Emily going?" Jack asked.

"She just had to go to the bathroom really quick, that's all."

Emily listened to Hotch and Jack from around the corner as she leaned against the wall. She waited for the tears stinging her eyes to spill down her cheeks, but none did. Some invisible source of strength was, without her asking, allowing her to keep her composure. Composure she needed. She was taking home two children tonight and going to a wake to celebrate the lives of her friends. The funeral was tomorrow, but the children were tonight and the wake was tonight. Tonight was supposed to be good. The kids were safe, healthy, she could be together with her friends and talk about the good memories they shared, and even if that made her cry, she could be with her best friends while she did. Gathering her hair at the nape of her neck, she stood up straight again and took a deep breath. Just as she was rounding the corner, a stout woman maybe her mother's age was carrying Charlotte, tucked safely into the quilted bunting in which she'd left home, into the waiting room. Henry followed closely at her heels, also bundled up and ready to go, with another staff member.

"Oh, goodness," Emily breathed.

"You're back," Hotch remarked to Emily as the first woman handed Charlotte to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Hi, Henry," she cooed as she squatted down and opened her arms. Henry didn't smile, but he certainly recognized Emily and toddled over to her in a hurry. She scooped him up and rested him on her hip when she stood.

"They've both been happy and healthy," the first woman said reassuringly.

"Has he been asking for his parents?" Emily asked gravely.

"Every once in a while, and he still gets upset every now and then, but it seems to be tapering off. He's obviously too young to understand, so we put it in his terms. They went bye-bye."

"Bye-bye," Henry echoed with a smile.

"Oh, goodness. Well, thank you so much," Emily sighed.

"Yes, thank you," Hotch chimed in.

"Thank you!" Jack echoed.

"Well, hey, pumpkin," the second woman said, crouching down to get eye-to-eye with Jack. "What's your name?"

Jack looked up at Hotch. "Go ahead, tell her your name," Hotch said with a grin.

"Jack."

"Jack, would you like a sucker?"

Jack looked up at his dad yet again. Hotch nodded, so Jack did, too.

"I'll be right back." The woman retreated into the office area again. Her colleague handed Emily a bag with the clothes Henry and Charlotte had been wearing two nights ago, clean and folded.

"Thank you. How's the baby?" Emily asked Hotch once it was just the five of them in the waiting room.

"Good," Hotch asked He took a step closer to Emily so she could peek into his arms. "She's out cold."

"Did they let you see your sister a lot, honey?" Emily asked Henry.

"Uh-huh."

"That's good. Jack, look who's back to see you," she said.

Jack smiled and gladly took the sucker that was proffered to him. "What do you say?" Hotch asked.

"Thank you," Jack said.

"You're welcome, honey. Do either of you have any questions?" Hotch and Emily shook their heads. "Have everything you need?" Two nods. "All right, well, your social worker will be around for the first visit sometime within the next two weeks. And if you need anything, you give us a call. We're very sorry for your loss."

"Thank you, very much." Hotch quickly removed one hand from underneath the baby to shake hands.

"Thank you. Say bye-bye, Henry," Emily said, but the boy's mouth stayed shut.

"Bye-bye, Henry," the woman said anyway. "Goodnight, everyone. Have a safe drive home."

Though Jack had met Henry countless times and had seen Charlotte a couple of times that month, he still seemed enthralled with both of them on the drive home to get ready for the wake. He would look at Charlotte for two minutes, then turn to look at Henry, who had fallen asleep nearly right away, for two minutes, then switch again.

"All three kids in one car is not going to work for very long," Emily remarked. Hotch's sedan was wide enough to accommodate two car seats and a booster seat, but it had taken them a good fifteen minutes to get everyone loaded up, and even longer to install the two extra seats earlier that day.

"No," Hotch said. "But you-know-who will still be going to school tomorrow, so we'll just have the babies."

"I know it's weird to think of these kinds of things at a time like this," Emily said, "but we might want to consider getting at least one larger vehicle."

"I know. But let's take things one day at a time."

"I know, I know. I'm just saying…"

—

After driving out to Emily's apartment so she could get an overnight bag and her funeral attire, the odd family of sorts arrived at Hotch's house right around dinnertime. Jack was still the only child awake and waited patiently, as instructed, while Hotch and Emily took the babies out of their winter clothes and took them upstairs. Hotch put Henry down in Jack's bed and Emily put Charlotte down in her bassinet in the guest bedroom, which she still had a hard time thinking of as her own.

"Okay," Emily said. "I'm going to go get changed. I'm not really hungry, so don't worry about me, but we might want to pack some snacks for Henry. He'll probably be hungry while we're there. We have Charlotte's black dress and Henry's black suit, right?"

"Yes. Why on earth would a one-month-old baby already have a black dress, anyway?" Hotch said as he rifled through the fridge for something to cook up quickly for him and Jack.

"They always wore black to church. Another thing to add to our list of things to talk about, by the way. Anyway, let me go get ready, then I'll get Charlotte and Henry changed while you two eat, then I'll watch them while you and Jack go get ready," she said to Hotch. "Maybe I can get Henry to eat, too. Hopefully the baby can go without a bottle until a little later." Emily knew she sounded scatterbrained, but she didn't know how to sound otherwise.

"I don't need to eat," Hotch said.

"Well, just…we'll figure it out." Emily stopped and took a deep breath. "Let me go get changed, then I'll wake the babies up, get them ready, and we'll see where we are."

"Are you sure—"

"Hotch, Jack needs to eat. Feed him." Emily didn't mean to sound short with him, but she didn't have any energy left for apologies. They would be late if she spent another second in conversation with Hotch, anyway. She was out of her clothes in thirty seconds and into her black dress in another ten. Laughing to herself, she wondered how often she was going to have to change clothes that quickly over the next many, many years. She looked down at Charlotte, who still slept soundly, then peeked into Jack's room. Henry was rubbing his eyes, so she started with him. "Henry, I need to change your clothes, okay, sweetie? We have to go somewhere for a while."

Henry rolled off of Jack's bed and held his arms up.

"Oh, _thank you_. What a good helper. Do you need a new diaper?" she asked, remembering JJ asking that not long before she left the house two nights ago. Henry nodded. "Okay, then. Let's get you changed. Diapers, diapers, diapers…" Emily glanced frantically every which way around the room, trying to remember where she'd dropped the spare diaper bag, or even the giant box of diapers for that matter. She then remembered they were in her room. "Stay right here."

"There's a hot dog in the microwave," Hotch said, jumping up from his seat when Emily appeared downstairs with Henry on her hip. Hotch had heard Charlotte crying from downstairs and was itching to do something besides sit with Jack while he ate his dinner. Hotch had wolfed down a hot dog of his own in thirty seconds, hoping Jack would sense the urgency and hurry to finish as well, but Jack remained rather oblivious to the entire situation and had only nibbled at his food. He was just now finishing.

"Mmm, sounds appetizing, but I think I'll pass," Emily said. She dropped her black heels onto the floor and added, "The baby burst my eardrums while I was changing her but she fell right back asleep so just grab her on your way down. I'll try to get things going down here."

Hotch nodded and rushed up the stairs with Jack.

"Ah, shi—darn it—forgot the booster seat…" Emily said to herself. "Do you want a hot dog?" she asked Henry sweetly.

He nodded. "Let's get you a hot dog, then." She searched high and low in the kitchen for a napkin and a plate and sat down with Henry in her lap, napkin tucked in his collar, at the dining room table. Apparently he was hungry—he picked up the hot dog without it having to be offered to him. She breathed a heavy sigh of relief and let her head roll backwards. He was eating. _Good sign._

What seemed like eons later, but was really only ten minutes, tops, Henry had finally finished eating and Hotch came downstairs with Jack and the baby, the latter of whom was finally wide awake. Emily hadn't heard a single scream. "You ready?" she asked.

"Yup. Did Henry get something to eat?"

"Yes, he just finished," Emily said, carrying him toward the front door. "We need all their coats and things again."

"Where did we put it all?"

"On the couch, where we undressed them," Emily said as kindly as she could. "Oh, and we're definitely going to have to go back to their place soon. I forgot Henry's booster seat for the table."

"No, _I_ forgot that," Hotch said, already on his way back from the living room with the outerwear for the youngest two. "I vaguely remember you telling me to grab it and I forgot. Sorry."

"It's not a big deal. I have the feeling we're going to be full of mistakes for a while." Emily's words hung in the air as Hotch went out to start the car. He came back inside to get everyone bundled up. "Oh my gosh, can we just stop for one second?" Emily said with a broad, glowing smile as she wrapped her own jacket around herself and stepped into her shoes at the same time. "I didn't notice this before. Look at her, you can hardly see her in there." She poked a finger into the opening on Charlotte's puffy pink bunting and widened her eyes. The baby looked out curiously at her. "_So_ adorable. And you little gentlemen are looking very nice." Jack and Henry stood in their black suits and covered in puffy winter jackets, hats, and gloves. "Okay, enough cuteness. We can go now." She slung a diaper bag over her shoulder and led the way outside.

"Yes, ma'am," Hotch said. "Think we have time to swap out a car seat to your car to make it a little less packed?"

"No, I think we're running late as it is. How long have we been here?" Emily asked once Jack got into his booster seat.

"Home? Twenty-five, thirty minutes. Why?" Hotch asked.

"We got two kids and you fed, got everyone changed including ourselves, two diapers changed, bundled up and out the door in a half hour?" Emily said in amazement.

"I guess we did, but I'd prefer to give ourselves a little more time next time. My blood pressure is probably through the roof right now."

"Mine too. But we did it. We can do it. We can do this." With everyone buckled in, Emily and Hotch got in the front. Emily rubbed her hands together against the heat that was blowing through her vent.

"Did you have any doubt?" Hotch asked as he backed out of the driveway.

"I guess I never really thought too hard about how hectic it would be. But the last time I changed my clothes that fast was after I sneaked back into my room and into bed after a party when I was, what, sixteen or seventeen? I heard my dad walking down the hall and I knew I was in for it. Someone had spilled beer and I had to stash my dress in my closet so he wouldn't smell it." Hotch laughed quietly. "I hope they don't turn out like me," Emily continued. "I was not a model teenager, let me tell you."

"Emily?" Hotch said.

"Yeah?"

He glanced pointedly into the backseat. Not a peep was being made. The boys, facing forward were staring contentedly out the window for the time being. "No one's crying. No one's hungry. You're doing a great job. They're going to turn out fine."

"I'm sure I forgot to pack something in the diaper bag…"

"Emily. You're doing great," he repeated. "You've been a mom for all of an hour and—"

"A _mom_? Hotch, my title is guardian. No one is calling me Mom."

"How are you not a mom? What other title is more appropriate?" Hotch asked with a challengingly raised eyebrow. He stopped at a red light and waited, staring straight ahead, for Emily's answer.

"I don't know, caregiver? Guardian, officially, like I said."

"Do you think JJ wanted her kids to grow up with a _caregiver-slash-guardian_? Sorry, it doesn't matter _what_ they end up calling you. You're a mom."

"Okay, you need to stop," Emily said, sighing and digging through her purse for makeup. "God, I didn't even _think_ to look in the mirror." She flipped down her visor and slid the mirror open.

"You look fine."

"You haven't even seen my face straight on since we picked the kids up. You don't get to say that."

"Let me see your face."

Emily fought off a laugh. "No," she said stubbornly, unable to suppress a grin as she continued to fish through her purse. "And stop flirting with me." Any other moment, his compliments would have truly annoyed her, but for some reason, for the time being, she didn't mind them. They were almost having fun together again. She knew it wouldn't last, that there was still tension between them, so she tried to appreciate it.

"I wasn't. I was just being honest."

"And you're still flirting."

"You know, it's nice that we can be lighthearted about things," Hotch said cautiously, almost as if he knew he wasn't allowed to be happy.

"Yeah, rushing to get three kids fed and ready to go kind of makes you forget about things for a little bit...the funeral, what everyone else is saying about us..." Emily said vaguely, untwisting a tube of mascara and waiting for another red light so she could put it on.

"It's almost never this easy or quiet, just warning you. Things have been far more hectic with Jack, and now we have three, well, _you_ have two—but my point is, we're in for quite a ride."

"Oh, I know. But it went well tonight and I think I needed that. Especially before all of…well, this."

**A/N: Please take a moment to leave a review. :)  
**


	18. Caskets and Casserole

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews, they really keep me motivated and I enjoy reading them.  
**

"Let me see her," was the first thing Garcia said to Emily when she arrived at the funeral home shortly after Hotch, Emily, and the children. Emily smiled and crouched down to lift Charlotte, unbundled, from her carrier, then handed her off to Garcia. "What a little ball of magical cuteness. Do you promise to let me know if you ever need a sitter at night?"

"You're at work till at least nine or ten every night." Emily thought it odd for Garcia to be so bubbly at a wake, but she appreciated it nonetheless.

"The kids could play in my office. As long as they don't touch my monitors. And I don't think that'll be a problem yet. They're both a little short. But seriously," Garcia said, lowering her voice even more than those around her, "Derek lets me do anything I want. Best unit chief ever."

"I hope you're talking about me," Hotch said dryly as he came up behind Emily, bent down pretty low so he could hold Henry's hand, as he had apparently insisted on walking rather than being held. Jack followed closely at his father's heels.

"Hotch," Garcia said with a smile. "I was just telling Emily that I am your go-to babysitter."

"I think the only friends we have are mutual, so I don't foresee both of us having plans outside of spending time with you guys," Emily said. "But I'll definitely keep it in mind."

"Hi, Henry, come see your Auntie Penelope." Garcia crouched down with the baby and held one arm open for Henry to cozy up next to her, which he did.

"Can we go home now, Daddy?" Jack asked from three feet below his dad.

"Not right now, buddy. Sorry. We have to stay a while. Emily and I need to visit with our friends." He decided not to mention the viewing of JJ's and Will's bodies.

"I know you just got them, but do you mind if I tote Charlotte and Henry around for a bit?" Garcia asked. "I won't run away with them, I swear."

"Go for it," Emily said, not expecting any objection from Hotch, and not getting one. She turned around to face him. "Not many people here," she remarked.

"When you've got a fourteen-hour-a-day job that involves traveling, a husband who hasn't lived here very long, and only one living relative, that's what happens, I guess," Hotch said.

"Daddy, can you pick me up?" Jack asked, tugging at Hotch's pant leg. With a quiet sigh, Hotch bent down to acquiesce to Jack's request.

"Gonna be a long night," Hotch said.

Emily nodded, gazing toward the closed caskets. JJ and Will had been mostly recognizable from the neck up, but the rest of their bodies had been mangled beyond any repair that would make the rest of them presentable.

"Do you want to go…" Hotch nodded toward the caskets.

Emily shook her head instantly. "I'm not quite ready."

"Let me know when you are," Hotch said. "I'll go with you if you want."

Emily eyed Hotch, trying not to look as curious as she was. "Okay. Thanks. I'm gonna go get something to eat. Want anything?"

"Actually, a cup of coffee would be great, if you could." Hotch was holding Jack against his chest with both hands.

"Sure."

"Aaron," a familiar voice said from beside him.

Of course, he wasn't Agent Hotchner anymore. But hearing his first name come from Erin Strauss's mouth with no accompanying disdain still sounded off-putting. Not knowing off the top of his head how exactly to address her, he turned and nodded. "Good evening."

"Hello, Jack," Strauss said with an uncharacteristically gentle look. Hotch turned a bit so Jack could see Strauss, but he hid his face from view.

"Jack, don't be rude." But Jack just whined into Hotch's shoulder. "I'm sorry. He's getting tired."

"I understand. I hear you have quite the arrangement with the children."

"Yes, it's very interesting. We just picked them up from CPS this evening."

"And Miss Prentiss has moved in with you?"

Hotch couldn't tell from Strauss's face exactly why she was asking. Was she looking to judge? Was she merely curious? Concerned? "Yes, that's correct. JJ and Will left Emily and I the only logical guardians to the children and requested two parents, one household."

"That's a big commitment," Strauss said.

Again, Hotch wondered what Strauss's angle was. "Yes, but we're confident it will work out for the best."

"Well, I hope it does. Where are the children?"

"Garcia's walking around with them."

"It was nice seeing you." She paused, as if debating whether to say what she said next. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for you. I know neither one of you are with the Bureau anymore, but you both devoted your lives to it while you were. I would be remiss to ignore that just because you work elsewhere now."

"Thank you. I appreciate it." Hotch nodded and watched on, slightly dazed, as Strauss went off in search of Garcia and the children.

"Sorry, but I couldn't bring myself to walk into any possible confrontations, so I hid when I saw her," Emily said to Hotch, handing over his coffee. He shifted Jack to his hip so he could take it.

"Thanks. You know, she was actually quite supportive. You might want to let her say hello to you. Found something to eat?" he asked, nodding toward Emily's plate.

"Yeah, but I don't know that I'm hungry anymore. Have you seen any of the others?"

"Not yet. Only other person I've recognized in here is Harry but I don't know where he went. Let's just say it's a good thing I can't find him and I have you-know-who with me. I'd like to give him a piece of my mind."

"Yes, it is a good thing you have you-know-who, because if you make a scene here, I'll K-I-L-L you."

"With so many little ears in one house, we're going to be spelling a lot, aren't we?" Hotch said, amused.

"Yeah, and in exchange, not sleeping much…I feel like I'm back at the BAU again. I was finally back to actually being able to sleep when I was tired, getting over the insomnia, but I know I'm probably not going to sleep tonight. At least I'll have the baby to keep me company. I think I'm going to have to go back on Ambien. Am I rambling?"

"A bit. You were on sleeping pills?"

"You weren't?" Emily asked with a very cocked eyebrow. "I thought we all were. I know JJ was."

"I can fall asleep anywhere once I let myself," Hotch said. "I can't count how many times I woke up hunched over my desk at home the last ten years."

"Maybe the baby should be in _your_ room, then," Emily teased.

"I can take her."

"I was joking. I want her with me. If that's okay."

"Of course. But you'll let me know if that changes?"

"I can handle her until we convert the office into a nursery. I'm assuming that's what's going to happen, right?"

"Right. Just remember this is a team effort, though. Don't keep the baby in your room because you don't want to ask for help."

"What makes you think I won't ask for help?" Emily asked.

Hotch took a sip of his coffee, which was far too hot to drink, and he winced. "Because you're just like me in that respect. You choose not to burden the people that can actually help you. You only open up completely to people you know will only listen but not try to fix things, because you don't trust other people."

"Okay, no sneaking in comments about our past into this."

"This isn't about our past. It's about _your_ past."

"Fine, then no sneaking in comments about _my_ past. Look, Rossi's here. Let's go say hi."

—

"Prentiss." Emily turned her head toward Morgan's voice, then suddenly remembered how soggy her face was. She accepted his tight hug, and eventually wrapped her arms around his back.

"Hi," she eventually managed to choke out. "How long have you been here?"

"I just got here. Sorry I'm late. I'm turning into Hotch."

"Aren't you guys taking the rest of the week off or something?" Emily said, backing out of Morgan's arms so she could have a real conversation with him.

"Made everyone else stay out of the office until Friday, but there's always some stuff that can't seem to wait. Let's go sit." He took Emily gently by the arm and found them some empty chairs. "So I heard you and Hotch are taking the kids."

"Yeah," Emily said, staring at the floor, ready to be judged again.

"I think that's great."

Emily's heart, which had been beating a hole through her skull for the last half hour, skipped a beat. She gave Morgan a discerning look. "Really? Because everyone else seems to think we're crazy."

"You are crazy. But in a good way."

"Feel free to elaborate," Emily said as she ran her fingers under her eyes.

"You and Hotch never do anything halfway. You devote yourselves completely to whatever it is that's important to you. It used to be your careers, but I've talked to Hotch a bit over the past few months and I can tell he's becoming more of a family man that he ever was or could be when he was unit chief. And everyone's always known _you_ wanted kids. I don't think that the fact that they aren't yours biologically matters to you, does it?"

Emily shook her head. "No, it doesn't."

"Then knowing you guys, you're both in this one hundred percent. Even if it's all really sudden and it's not something you necessarily would have chosen, I think it'll work out. You're going to make great parents. Even if your past is kind of shaky. And don't give me that look. Everyone knows something fishy happened. I don't know what did or didn't happen, but whatever it is, I don't think either of you will let that get in the way."

"Thank you." Emily laid a hand on Morgan's arm and squeezed it.

"For what? Telling the truth?"

"For your vote of confidence. Not that I can blame anyone for doubting us, but it's nice to have some real support."

"Anytime. Come here." More tears streamed silently down Emily's cheeks when Morgan pulled her close again. The more the sobs racked Emily's body, the more he pulled her in.

"Sorry. I miss JJ and that just makes everything that I have to do that much harder," Emily said when she found air.

"Don't you dare apologize."

—

"Hey, Hotch," Garcia said, "the baby's hungry and I'm relatively sure that Henry needs a new diaper. You take one and I'll take the other?"

"Sure. Preference?"

"If this place is like anywhere else, there isn't a changing table in the men's room. You take the baby." Garcia handed a fussy baby to Hotch and dug through the diaper bag for a diaper and wipes before taking off to the restroom with Henry.

"Let the fun begin," Rossi said, smiling crookedly.

"Here, take her. I'll go fix her a bottle, I guess. Where's Emily?"

"Walking up with Morgan," Rossi, said gesturing toward the caskets.

Hotch glanced in that direction. "Oh." The disappointment in his voice was obvious.

"What?"

"Nothing." Hotch placed the baby in Rossi's waiting arms and bent down to get what he needed.

—

"You believe in God," Emily said, hanging onto Morgan's arm as they stood at the caskets covered in cascading flower arrangements.

"Is that a question?"

Emily shook her head. "I know you do."

"You're right. Do you?"

Emily sniffled and took a tissue to her nose. "I do, but…you know, sometimes I _really _wonder what his angle is."

"Trust me, so do I."

"Can I be honest with you?" Emily asked, curling her lips in, trying to stave off just some of the tears. She felt like she was the only one in the room who hadn't been able to keep her cool. Even Garcia was still quite collected, though Emily figured she was probably using the children to achieve that.

"Always."

"I'm kind of glad it's closed casket. I know some people need that kind of closure but I don't know if I could handle it. I can hardly go back into her house without losing it," Emily admitted.

"That's completely understandable." Morgan didn't say anything more for a while. "Would you like a minute alone?"

Emily thought first, then nodded. "Yeah. Thanks." Once she had no one else to hold onto, Emily hugged her own stomach and stood directly in front of JJ's casket. "I know you're up there somewhere," she murmured. She found it impossible to string together more than one sentence at a time, so she did what she could. After inhaling shakily, she said, "I really hope you knew what you were doing." Taking another moment to compose herself, she concluded her goodbye. "But I love you and I'm glad you trusted me with the kids…Hotch, well, we'll see." She kissed her hand and placed it on the mahogany lid. She wished more than anything at that moment that she could think of something more profound to say, but for the few more minutes that she remained standing there, no more words came to her. She heard someone coming up behind her, so she got out of the way. She found Hotch and Rossi standing in a corner, Hotch trying to get the baby to eat. Jack sat on the floor against the wall.

"Is she okay?" Emily asked.

"Just hungry," Hotch said, his face focused on Charlotte.

"Daddy, I wanna go home," sounded Jack's tired voice from down below.

Emily dabbed off her tears and smeared makeup before crouching down to meet Jack eye to eye. "You tired?" He nodded. "Hotch, maybe Jessica can come pick him up. He looks like he's about to pass out."

Hotch knew that was the most logical solution, and that it wasn't fair to Jack to keep him out if he was genuinely tired, not to mention bored, but calling Jessica sounded about as much fun as stapling his face to the carpet. "I'll call her when the baby's done eating."

"Here, I'll take her. Go call Jessica." Emily, oblivious to Hotch's aversion, took the baby from him.

Hotch frowned and walked into the lobby, crossing paths with Garcia and Henry along the way.

"Everything okay? I mean—well—all things considered…" she said.

"I just need to make a call. Emily's in there."

Once he was alone again, Hotch took a deep breath before dialing Jessica.

"Hello?"

"Hey, it's me. Listen, do you think you can come get Jack, or maybe I can drop him off at your place or my place? We're all at Will and JJ's wake and we can't leave this soon."

"_Just_ Jack?"

Hotch frowned, happy he could do so as much as he wanted and Jessica wouldn't see. "Yes."

"Sure. I'll come get him. Would you rather I bring him home and stay with him there?"

"Yes, but excuse the mess. We're still in the middle of transitioning. Actually, we've barely made a dent. Anyway, I'd like him to be home as much as possible. So if you could take him home, that would be great."

"All right. Send me the address of the funeral home."

"Thank you." He walked back inside to his growing group of friends. "Has anyone seen Harry again?" he asked offhandedly.

"No, and drop it," Emily said sternly. "Look, Reid's here."

—

"Jack sneaked out of his bed and into yours," Hotch said with a hint of amusement when he came downstairs. All three children were sleeping and Jessica was gone. She'd hardly stuck around long enough to say goodnight to Hotch, let alone Emily, who was now rummaging through the fridge for food she thought she could finally eat. It was almost midnight and she knew that food always kept her awake at night, but she hadn't eaten since breakfast.

"Oh, that's completely fine. He's welcome whenever he wants to sleep there."

"Well, I don't want to spoil him. I know it's going to be hard at first for him to adjust, but I don't want him to get used to being babied."

"Of course." Emily appeared from behind the fridge door with a casserole dish. "Any idea what's in here?"

"I haven't looked through any of that yet. Dave dropped off a few coolers full of food before we went to pack. I haven't had time to look through them. That's all that would fit in the fridge. The rest is in the garage. Want me to bring some in?"

Emily was opening the dish on the counter. "This has meat and cheese. Sounds good to me. Want any?"

"Thanks, but I think I'm going to turn in. Know where all the dishes and silverware are yet?"

"No, but I'll figure it out," Emily said.

"Did you get a moment alone with Garcia at all tonight?"

"Yeah, we got our cry on. What's with the twenty questions?" Emily sounded a tad annoyed as she searched for plates.

"Just making conversation." Hotch tucked his hands into his pants pockets, jingling his keys.

"Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to snap. I'm just exhausted." _Great way to start the first night here_, she said, congratulating herself on her ability to screw up just about anything.

"It's fine. That makes two of us. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Hotch turned halfway, paused for barely half a second, but continued out of the kitchen.

—

Hotch lay in bed for at least an hour, tossing, turning, adding and subtracting pillows, but he seemed to have jinxed himself into an episode of insomnia when he'd told Emily how easily he could usually fall asleep. His brain normally had an "off" switch at night, but he couldn't find it. All the events of the past two days, the plans for tomorrow, the fact that the rest of his life had been changed in an instant, and the fact that Emily was now living down the hall, all kept him wide awake like he'd just downed an entire pot of coffee. He figured it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world if he didn't sleep, though. He knew Emily probably wouldn't sleep much if at all and he didn't think, for some reason, that it would be fair for him to get more sleep than she. Not when she had been taking things much worse, not when she was the one who'd lost her best friend. Maybe knowing she was lying in bed sleepless was what was keeping him awake as well. A while after he heard her come upstairs, he couldn't keep himself from checking in. She was, as he'd predicted, still awake.

"You sure you're okay with him in here?" Hotch asked from Emily's open doorway after knocking softly twice on the doorframe. Jack was asleep by Emily's side and she was propped up against her headboard, reading a book.

"Of course," she said, smiling cordially.

"Because I can carry him into my room. He won't wake up."

"It's okay, I missed him. I really did. And it helps."

"Okay. I'll come get him when it's time for him to get ready in the morning. Do you need anything?"

"Nope."

"Want me to shut the door?"

"I don't mind either way."

Hotch had a thousand more things he wanted to ask, but he realized that none of them were worth bothering her over. Not tonight. "Goodnight. Again."

Once Emily heard Hotch's door shut at the end of the hall, she held her breath and listened. The only sound she heard was breathing. Jack right beside her, cocooned under the covers, and the baby a few feet away. She'd known Hotch would come check on her at least once, especially since Jack was with her. Now that she seemed to be in the clear, she shut her book and slid it onto the nightstand. Tears streamed silently to the corners of her lips. She thought about what she'd said to JJ that night, wondered whether it was enough. Had she been to harsh? Was JJ deserving of having her judgment question? Emily supposed not. She slid nimbly out of bed and looked through one of her hastily packed bags for her day planner.

**A/N: Thank you for reading! Please leave a review, quick and painless and lets me know what I am doing wrong/right, or just lets me know you're reading. No account needed. :)**


	19. Disappointment

**A/N: Sorry for the lack of flashbacks in the last couple of chapters. Many more to come once this and the next chapter are over, I promise! There is one in here but not the half-a-chapter kind. Thank you TONS for reviewing. Enjoy!**

**Also, a big thanks to SussiRay who lets me ramble on about basically every chapter and helps me along the way. I was trying to think of a flashback to tie in, and she suggested having a Hotchalanche flashback, so I ran with it because I felt it fit really well with how Hotch would be feeling at that point in time. Hope you enjoy!  
**

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

When Emily awoke the next morning to her phone's alarm chirping at her, she found she was alone in bed save for her day planner tucked under her arm. The little imprint of Jack's body remained in the sheets. She was normally quite a light sleeper, so she was surprised she hadn't woken up when Hotch had come in to get Jack. She tried to focus on her phone's clock after turning the alarm off, but her eyes were crusted over with sleep and caked makeup. She crossed paths with Hotch, already fully dressed, on her way to the bathroom.

"Don't look at me," she mumbled, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest and stepping into the bathroom to look in the mirror, but leaving the door half open so Hotch could still talk to her. He obviously planned to.

"Did you at least get some sleep?" he asked, leaning against the door frame.

"About two hours total, I think. Better than nothing."

"Jack didn't keep you up at all, did he?"

"No, not at all. Just three feedings and a diaper change."

"Let me take the baby tonight so you can catch up on your sleep."

"Did _you_ sleep?"

"Enough," Hotch lied. He'd only been asleep for an hour when his alarm woke him to get Jack ready for school.

"Is Jack off to school already?" Emily asked.

"Just got back from dropping him off. I took Henry and Charlotte with me so you could get some sleep. He's back in bed, though."

"Oh. Thanks." Emily turned off the tap she'd just turned on and looked out the door at Hotch, but he was purposely staring at something behind her. "I didn't hear you come in either time. I guess I was dead to the world. Uhh, is Jessica picking Jack up after school or what?"

"Normally she does, but I'll go get him. Should be just in time for the luncheon."

"Ah. I take it you talked to her about the living arrangements?" Hotch stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and stared down warily at the floor. "Answer me."

"I did. She's not pleased."

"So she's taking it out on you by refusing to watch Jack?" Emily said, shooting Hotch a disgusted look as she ran an eye makeup remover pad around one eye. "That's kind of…I won't say the word I'm thinking of."

"She actually refused to help out with Charlotte and Henry, in protest of the whole situation. It doesn't matter how many different last names live under this roof—Jack needs to know that this is his family now, as unconventional as it is. Having him go to Jessica's after school while the others go to daycare is sending the message that this isn't a family. And I don't expect her to watch the babies anyway. That wouldn't be fair. She didn't choose this. She didn't know JJ and Will."

"But it…I know this isn't really my place, but can I comment anyway?"

"Of course."

"Wouldn't this also be sending him the message that his aunt doesn't want to see him, or even if he knows it's because _you_ won't let her see him, won't he know that you and Jessica aren't happy with one another?"

"He can still be with her on the weekends, or she can come for dinner on weeknights. I'll make sure he sees enough of her, but I don't want it to seem like differential treatment."

"Well, hopefully Jack will be okay with it," Emily said, turning the water back on.

"I think it'll be good for him to spend more time socializing with other children. I think he'll enjoy it," Hotch told Emily as well as himself.

"I hope you're right. I, uh, need to take a shower. Towels?" Hotch opened the linen closet behind him and handed Emily a towel. "Thanks. I'll try to be quick."

"Take your time. I'll hold down the fort." Hotch gave Emily a halfhearted nod before continuing on his way downstairs.

—

"Go ahead and sit down. I'll meet you in a minute. Just have to find the priest," Emily told Hotch once their jackets were hung.

"Oh. All right." Hotch said, confused, walking down the aisle with Henry in one arm and Charlotte's carrier in the other. Emily searched the perimeter of the sanctuary until she found what looked like a staff member who kindly directed her to the priest's office and knocked on the open door.

"Come in."

—

"Everything okay?" Hotch asked when Emily sat back down next to him in the front pew and flattened out her dress in her lap.

"Yeah," she breathed, staring straight ahead and opening her arm to Henry, who wanted to scoot in next to her.

"I need to use the restroom. I'll be right back." Hotch was only gone a minute by the time Reid arrived and slid into the pew next to Emily.

"Hey," he said.

"Hey," Emily whispered, turning her attention toward her friend.

"Hey, Henry," Reid said as he crouched over.

Henry smiled and held his arms out to Reid, who, surprised but pleasantly so, picked him up and sat him in his lap.

"Can you watch the kids for a minute?" Emily asked Reid. "I think I need some air."

"Uh, of course not. Go ahead." Reid eyed Emily worriedly, watching her paler than normal face as she exited the pew, avoiding any eye contact with him.

**June 2008**

**Carlsbad, New Mexico**

"Prentiss, you're with me. We're going to narrow down this list of weapons dealers. Rossi, Morgan, to the dump site. JJ, call the victims' families in. Reid, you're on point." Hotch was already sweating, under his arms, all down his back. Even though the humidity was low, a hundred twenty degrees was still rather unbearable, even with the air conditioning in the tiny police station working its hardest.

Everyone followed orders and broke away, except for Morgan. "Hotch, Prentiss might be better at the crime scene with us."

"She's going with me."

"But Hotch, she's got a good eye for this kind of thing—"

Hotch's terrifying demeanor surfaced almost immediately. "Don't make me pull rank on you, Morgan. Don't start with me."

"What the hell's going on, Hotch?"

"Reid!" Hotch bellowed. The youngest of the team made his way timidly back to where Morgan and Hotch were arguing. "Morgan will be running point instead. You go with Rossi."

Morgan glared incredulously at Hotch before the latter stormed out the front door, Reid following closely behind him.

"Hotch, is everything okay?" Reid asked before they split apart to their separate vehicles.

"Everything is fine, Reid. Go with Rossi. Keep me posted."

"What's wrong? Where's Reid going?" Emily asked when Hotch slid into the driver's seat and rolled all the windows down until the air conditioning could kick in.

"I switched him with Morgan."

"Why?"

"Because." Hotch threw the SUV rather violently into reverse and came inches away from ramming the rear end into Rossi's as he drove behind him. Hotch slammed his hands against the steering wheel after they came to an abrupt stop.

"Hey," Emily said gently. "Seriously, what has you all worked up?"

Hotch cast a sidelong glance at Emily, who still bore remnants some of the bruises and cuts (now red scars) courtesy of her abduction over a month ago. Once the way was clear, he made his way out onto the street, throwing gravel and sand up behind the spinning tires.

"Hotch."

"Morgan was questioning my decision to keep you with me."

"Well, it's a valid question. You don't need me with you."

"I want you with me."

"Hotch—"

"We both know what happened to the victims. I don't want you trolling around the bodies."

Emily sighed and rubbed her forehead with her hand. "You're going to have to stop this sooner or later, you know. I'm okay."

"Yeah, well..." Hotch started, but trailed off.

"Yeah well what?"

Hotch focused on the trail of dust left behind them in the rear view mirror. "I'm not."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

The clicking of Emily's heels was the loudest sound in the church until she reached the carpeted vestibule. She was about to head outside for a quick shock of cold air when the angrily rolling voice she'd heard none too many times caught her attention. She stopped in her tracks and looked to her right. Hotch was standing only a foot away from Harry, who was trying to stand his ground, but Hotch was inching closer and closer until Harry was stuck between him and the wall.

"I don't _care_ why they didn't leave you anything. What kind of low-life comes to his brother's funeral to see if there's something in it for him? Your great uncle, fine. Your dear f—aunt Sally, fine. But your _brother_? You couldn't at least _pretend_ to care? You couldn't even help pick out a god-damned casket? And you don't give a damn about your own niece and nephew? They were there last night and you didn't even come to say hello."

Emily's mouth hung open as she watched the heated scene unfold before her.

"I've never even met them," Harry said, his voice steady but still clearly fearful of the two hundred pounds of solid fury that had him trapped. The rage in Hotch's deeply creased forehead and heavily slanted eyebrows just added to Harry's realization that he'd made a mistake in letting Hotch introduce himself.

"Well, there's a first time for everything. But you don't want to meet them, because then this trip wouldn't be all about you, would it? Because you're all that matters to you. Blood doesn't matter to you at all, does it?" Hotch hissed.

Harry finally seemed to find a way out of this. "If I was just here for money, then why do you think I'm still here? I already know I was left out of the will."

"I don't know why you're still here. Enlighten me. Because you're disrespecting everyone who dropped _everything_ they were doing to honor Will and JJ's last wishes, and you can't even do that much when they didn't ask for a thing from you. Do you think they would have even wanted you here?"

"That's enough," Emily sternly said from where she stood ten feet away. She had no words for either one of them. Of course Harry seemed like the lowest of the low. And of course Hotch had a right to be angry about that. But the latter's behavior would have been horrifying enough on a normal day. Today it was unbearable. She took much firmer steps to the front door and pushed her way through.

Hotch's eyes softened and watched helplessly for a moment while Emily stalked off outside. Harry took this momentary shift of attention to sneak out from between Hotch and the wall and back into the sanctuary. Too tired to think straight, and realizing that that may have affected his decision-making skills just now, Hotch dragged his fingers through his hair. He never in a million years would have wanted Emily to see such an emotionally unrestrained display—not this one, anyway. He'd yelled at her before, but she'd at least had the chance to defend herself.

"Don't even talk to me right now," Emily said, facing the street. She didn't turn around when the doors opened behind her. She knew exactly who it was and exactly what he wanted.

"Emily. I didn't mean for you to—"

"What part of 'don't talk to me' do you not understand? Please go. You've already made one scene today. Let's not make it two. Go to the bathroom. You _did_ have to go, right? Or were you purposely trying to hunt him down? No. You know what, I don't even want to know. Just go."

Suddenly feeling like he was entirely alone in the world, Hotch's deep frown returned and he went quietly back inside. His intentions had been noble, he thought. Maybe somewhat protective, knowing the last thing Emily needed was that filth approaching her. But apparently the last thing she needed was to see him acting the way he did. He nodded at Reid and clutched his shoulder as he passed him on his way back into the pew.

"Have you seen Emily? Is she okay?" Reid asked.

"No, she's not, but are any of us?" Hotch replied quietly.

"I suppose not," Reid said meekly. Emily walked arm-in-arm with Garcia into the sanctuary five minutes later, giving Hotch a pointed glare and sitting with Emily in the first pew. Hotch didn't expect to get any attention whatsoever from Emily as she passed by him to sit, but that didn't make her cold shoulder hurt any less. Rossi, Morgan, Kevin, and Strauss, among some other Bureau agents, showed up shortly thereafter.

Emily's lips barely moved through the hymns she hardly knew and didn't have the energy to follow along with, save for "Amazing Grace," which was just cruelly sad. She made it through one verse until her lip quivered uncontrollably. When Garcia's hand slipped behind her back, she did the same in return. She felt Hotch's curiously worried glances throughout the entire mass but wouldn't give him the time of day. Thoughts of the things she would like to say to him started to distract her from her own grieving, which just served to make her even more furious with him for his outburst.

Hotch figured it was enough to know that Emily was upset. There wasn't anything he could do about it right now. So he focused on the hymnal open in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Emily holding hers up as well, but her eyes were on the caskets instead, and her mouth had now stopped moving altogether. He knew about her disillusionment with the Catholic Church, but figured _that_ wasn't what now kept her silent. But then again, he wondered if he should give himself so much credit. Maybe Emily had already been broken enough without being angry at him. Maybe she wasn't even thinking about him. Of course not. This wasn't about him. She'd lost her best friend. The reason she couldn't respond with a simple "amen" was in no way because of him.

The priest offered the few tidbits about JJ and Will that he knew and filled the rest of the homily with what seemed to Emily like trite sayings about the importance of leading a morally sound life and of showing the others the love of Christ, and the peace that such love could bring. Emily tried as hard as she could to listen, focus, get something out of the platitudes. But the sleep deprivation was robbing her of control over her own mind. It would spend just seconds reliving her last moments with JJ, another fleeting moment wondering what the rest of her life had in store for her, and yet another wondering if she truly hated Hotch now, or if she would get over it once so many more important things stopped demanding her attention.

Although Emily felt the mass dragged on and she just wished the entire day would be over already, the final "Amen" startled her. _Is that it?_ Even if she was still unsure about her own faith at times, she was hoping to get some sort of peace out of it all. Maybe just an ounce. Or maybe to feel JJ's presence, to hear her saying that everything would be just fine, that she was doing a good job, that she shouldn't be so scared. Maybe she should have taken Communion with Rossi and Morgan. They'd had their fair share of disappointments with the Church as well, yet they had managed to let their faith, not their anger, determine their actions. Maybe participating more actively in the service would have given Emily the peace she had been waiting for.

Her face was sopping wet and her head pounded as mourners, including several uniformed officers from Will's police department, made their way to the front pew. They expressed their condolences, mainly to the seven adults, since Charlotte was asleep in Emily's arms now and Henry hadn't the foggiest what was going on. Harry had sat himself at the very end of the front pew, and his uncanny resemblance to Will removed any necessity to introduce himself. It was the procession of other people that would miss Will and JJ that made Emily feel—on top of exhausted, furious, and somewhat ill—extremely uncomfortable. Of the nine people in the front pew, only three were family members of the deceased, and though she knew JJ would have wanted the team to consider themselves the same, Emily found that difficult. Emily already had a head full of regret about how she hadn't been honest or open enough with JJ, had basically shown that she hadn't trusted her. If she couldn't see herself as a satisfactory best friend, could she see herself as family?

Kevin and Strauss filed past last, neither one having felt comfortable enough to sit with the rest in the front pew, instead having sat behind them. Again, Strauss's human side showed as she gave out hugs to each and every one of them. Kevin held onto his sobbing girlfriend a little longer, but being last in line, he seemed unafraid to do so. Hotch rather envied his fearlessness. Once everyone had filed past, they were ushered out.

Emily considered asking—begging—Garcia to accompany her, Hotch, and the children in the limousine. She couldn't think of any adult she less wanted be alone with than him. But she had just lashed out at Hotch for being immature, and for her to sink to his level and disrespect tradition just so she didn't have to talk to him would invalidate her anger with him. She did at least try to sit right in the middle of the narrow forward facing bench seat in the back of the limousine just to discourage him from sitting next to her. But he was apparently done heeding her wishes. He sat Henry on one side of her and, knowing his every move was being scrutinized but finding himself unable to care, sat down on her other side. He could _feel_ her eyes rolling back into her head as her eyes widened in a frantic effort to stave off more tears.

He tried to construct some sort of apology in his head, but each scenario he went through involved Emily being even more upset than she already was. Maybe the best way he could apologize would be to leave her be, at least for now. Once the limo started rolling forward, Emily shocked Hotch by speaking. "I feel uncomfortable being in the limo. We aren't family." She cut herself off before mentioning Harry. She'd seen him leave the church and drive off straight away after the service had ended. His car hadn't even been parked in line for the funeral procession. He hadn't planned on going to the burial. Maybe Hotch was completely right about him. Maybe he'd been lurking for some sign of good news. But that didn't change the fact that she hated that Hotch had made today about himself and his own issues with Harry.

"The children are family, though. It's a tradition. And they can't ride alone," Hotch said calmly.

"Yeah," Emily conceded. She put an arm around Henry's back and pulled him a little closer. The baby had been sleeping since before the service had started and thankfully remained that way, and Henry hadn't said a thing all day, so the only noise they heard was from outside.

Hotch opened his mouth ten times in preparation for the apology he told himself he wouldn't give, out of respect for the peace Emily clearly wanted. He could apologize later. She needed her space. By sitting next to her, he had already deprived her of her that, and it was too late to fix it without making things more painfully awkward. So he stayed put and they rode on in silence.

Hotch knew exactly why Emily was mad. It wasn't because she didn't believe him about Harry's motives. It was because he'd been selfish and childish at a time when she needed him to be the complete opposite. Even amongst supportive friends, he knew she felt just as alone as he did. Her hands rested in her lap. He eyed the nearest one for a good five minutes before closing his own hand around it. Maybe she would be even angrier at him, would tear her and away, but maybe, he hoped, she could tolerate him enough to let him make the gesture and, in the process, perhaps she could feel a little less lonely.

Emily seemed to have been holding off on a giant sniffle. She cleared her nose now just to buffer the tension that was exacerbated by Hotch's broad hand covering hers, the rough thumb stroking her pinky finger. Her trailblazing tears finally found their way down her cheeks and she couldn't keep two silent sobs from racking her body.

"I'm sorry," Hotch finally mumbled, tilting his head toward Emily. Her head nodded just slightly but her gaze was fixed on the ceiling. Knowing just how much he was pushing the limits, but desperately needing Emily to know how dead serious he was, he took his free hand gently to her opposite cheek. She didn't wait for him to force her head to turn. She turned it on her own. He was relieved to find her eyes not filled with hatred or anger, just fear and utter exhaustion. "I'm _so_ sorry. What can I do for you? Besides keeping my big mouth shut?"

Half a laugh shook through Emily's body and her lips turned up at the corners. "It's okay."

"It's not okay. And you didn't answer my question."

Emily's eyes rolled to the top of her head, not in frustration with him but with the situation. "Can you, um, tell me I'm not a terrible friend?"

Hotch's hand slid from Emily's cheek and to her arm while he stared at her discerningly. "You're not a terrible friend. What on earth would make you think that?"

Emily's lips rolled inward and her eyes fluttered shut, losing the battle and letting past a cascade of new tears. "I stayed up all night writing a eulogy."

"You did?" Hotch caressed her arm consolingly.

Emily nodded and pressed her hand up underneath her nose. "After the wake last night, I felt like…I hadn't known what to say to JJ, like I hadn't said enough. And last night, I thought of all these things I wanted to say about her, so I wrote them down, and even though it sounded absolutely terrifying to pour my heart out to a bunch of strangers, I thought, _This is for JJ, not me._ So I talked to the priest before mass and asked him if I could give the eulogy, and he told me he doesn't typically allow them in the church." Emily stopped to take a breath and Hotch waited patiently for her to continue. "And then I asked if he could make an exception, and he said maybe if I'd brought it to him earlier, but it was too late. He was so nasty about it. So I asked if I could do it at the cemetery and he told me the same rules apply there." She stopped with finality, so Hotch stepped in.

"I'm sorry. But this doesn't make you a terrible friend in the least. It makes you just the opposite. Just because you won't get a chance to say those things doesn't mean you don't feel them. And I don't think you need to say them for JJ to know them. Maybe you can read it at the luncheon, though, if that would make you feel better."

Emily nodded but didn't seem very convinced. "Maybe." In a gesture of renewed trust, though, she leaned into Hotch and rested her cheek against his shoulder. He threaded one arm around her back and stretched the other around to Henry, rocking the three of them minutely.

"I'm sorry I got so angry at you," Emily said amid sniffles and tiny gasps. "I haven't been myself at all lately."

"Don't apologize. That's my job. Let's just…get through the rest of the day, okay?"

Emily nodded against Hotch and moaned sweetly when Henry leaned into her and wrapped his arms as far as they would go around her middle. She released Hotch and lifted Henry into her lap, holding him close, but Hotch didn't let go of her.

**A/N: The clouds will lift slowly, I promise. Please let me know what you think, good or bad, with a quick and painless review. No account needed. I really appreciate any time you can take to leave one! :)**


	20. Words

**A/N: Using my best guess for a month for Haley's death. A little too green to be any later than September. But it's not really a detail I am too worried about.**

**Also, a big thanks to SussiRay for all the plot discussion.  
**

**September 2009**

Emily was following the rest of her team, sans Hotch, outside. It took everything in her not to put her foot down and say she wasn't going. She couldn't leave Hotch alone. Not like this. Sure, he had Jessica, other relatives, other friends. But she knew by now that he had no one like her. No one he trusted as much. It was a bond she cherished and had a hard time breaking.

"I…forgot something at our table. Don't wait up," she said suddenly to everyone else. Without waiting for their reactions, she turned on her heel and went straight out to the balcony. Once she reached the doorway, she slowed her steps down. Hotch was looking out over the garden. "Hey," she said softly, almost inaudibly.

He turned only his head. "Emily. Don't you need to leave?"

Emily frowned and shook her head. "Not right away. I have a few minutes to spare." She closed the rest of the distance between him and stood at his side, gazing out into the darkness at what greenery she could see. "I'm so sorry about Haley," she murmured, glancing at him.

Hotch knew he didn't need to thank her for her condolences. Not only had she already given them several times, but with her, all it took was a look. A look ridden with grief and guilt that told Emily he appreciated her presence enough to open up to her. She was always trying to find a way into his head.

They stared at one another for much longer than Emily would have expected. Once Hotch's face finally turned from her and into the garden again, she threw caution to the wind and placed a hand gingerly on his back. She loved him. That much she knew. But the touch was nothing more than friendly. He didn't need that kind of love right now. "Is there anything at all I can do?" She batted her lashes frantically in a losing battle against a few determined tears. She noticed out of the corner of her now blurry eyes that Hotch was looking her way again. She rolled her lips into her mouth and returned the gaze.

"What you can do is work this case without worrying about me."

"You know I can't _not_ worry. All your best friends are picking up and leaving when you need them most."

"Not all of them," Hotch said. "_You_ came back."

Emily sniffled and turned Hotch so she could hug him. He returned the embrace readily, like all the handshakes and shoulder touches he'd gotten from everyone else had left him starved.

"Thank you for that," he continued. "I know you feel guilty about having to leave, but the fact that you turned around to give me a few minutes means a lot."

"I tried, but I couldn't go without saying goodbye," Emily said, her chin resting on Hotch's shoulder, her cheek so close to his that she could feel the heat radiating from it.

Hotch sighed and rubbed his hands briefly up and down Emily's back once more before pulling away. "Go work the case. I'll see you when you get back."

Emily nodded and dabbed away the tears she'd spilled. "Let me know if you need anything. Even if it's just to talk or vent or something."

"There is…one thing you can do for me," Hotch said. "Two things, actually."

"Anything," Emily said eagerly.

"One, like I said, don't worry about me. And two, stay safe."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily's face was screwed up shamelessly as she dropped a shovelful of earth over both Will and JJ's coffins. She rotated children with Hotch and Garcia, both also worn and with tearstained cheeks, so they could take their turns. Emily stood with Henry on her hip as everyone else slowly trickled away. Will's uniformed colleagues brought a fresh onslaught of tears. Something about uniforms at a funeral got to her, made it tragically beautiful. Rossi and Reid laid hands on her and Garcia's shoulders, and Morgan hugged and kissed them, before leaving the two women with Hotch and the children.

Emily felt a restrained hand at her back. "Are you ready to go, or do you need a minute?"

"I need a minute," Emily said shakily, nodding.

"Let me take the kids, at least. They've been out in the cold long enough."

Garcia didn't argue, passing Charlotte off slowly to Hotch. Emily set Henry down on the ground so he could toddle alongside Hotch on the crunchy, frosted lawn. Hotch gave Emily one last, sad, fleeting glance before turning to leave.

Emily and Garcia simultaneously wrapped one arm around each other's backs. Emily waited until the priest walked away before speaking. "I want this day to be over, but at the same time, I feel like there will never be enough time for me to give a proper goodbye."

"I know exactly what you mean," Garcia said. She slid her hand from behind Emily's back and Emily did the same. They clutched hands.

Hotch was still waiting in the limo twenty minutes later once Emily and Garcia were finally able to remove themselves from the gravesite. Emily had had to remind herself that she could always come back.

"Sorry for making you wait," Emily said.

"Don't be," Hotch said quietly.

"Is the baby still asleep?"

"Awake, but happy," Hotch said.

Emily nodded and sat down next to Hotch completely voluntarily. Henry scooted up next to her other side again. Emily sighed heavily and leaned into Hotch just a little. She gave him an inch and he took a mile, but she didn't mind as his arm slipped around the two of them again, his hand landing softly on Henry's head.

"I'm really sorry for blowing up at you earlier," Emily said again. "And before you tell me not to apologize, we need each other. And that includes backing each other up. That doesn't mean I should have jumped in and wrung his neck with you, but I should have understood where you were coming from. And I did understand, and I still do, but I think I just needed to…be angry at someone. And you were an easy target. Will you accept my apology?"

"If you'll accept mine," Hotch said.

"I already did earlier."

"Then all right."

"Thank you."

—

Hotch's phone lit up by chance as he took it out of his pocket to check it. They had just arrived at the banquet hall, now with Jack in tow. Jessica's name glowed on the screen. "Jessica's on the phone. I'll be right in," Hotch said to Emily. She nodded, plastered on a small smile, and took the children inside with her while Hotch waited by the doors. Not excitedly, he picked up the call.

"Hey," he said.

"Hi," Jessica answered. "I didn't expect you to answer."

"I was checking my phone and caught you by chance. What's going on?"

"I was just…wondering if I could take Jack for the afternoon. I know you just got him from school but you know he's going to be bored, and you guys could probably use one less little person to worry about."

Hotch seriously considered the offer instead of giving a reflexive refusal. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Where are you? I'll come get him."

"We're at the banquet hall down the road from your subdivision, actually."

"I know what place you're talking about. I'll be there in a couple of minutes."

"Thank you," Hotch said.

"Not a problem at all." Hotch found Emily inside and told her the news.

"I think that's a good idea," Emily said. "I know you don't like the whole differential treatment thing, but maybe we shouldn't throw him in head first, you know? Spending time with her will give him time to adjust. And he doesn't need to be here. It's important that Charlotte and Henry are here, but Jack doesn't have to be."

Hotch nodded. "You're right. Jack, want to go see Aunt Jessie for the afternoon?" His son nodded enthusiastically. "Then let's go wait out front."

—

Emily didn't voice her slight disappointment in Jessica's not offering to take Henry and Charlotte as well. She knew it wasn't Jessica's burden to bear, but felt slighted nonetheless. It was as if someone were telling her Henry and Charlotte weren't important, when in fact they were the two most important people in the entire room. Hotch seemed to sense Emily's discomfort and made sure to keep her and the kids in a tight knit group with him so he wouldn't miss an opportunity to take on a feeding or a diaper change. Not only did he know her feelings were somewhat hurt, but he wanted to give her as much peace as he could, to give her a chance to think about her eulogy if she still wanted to give it. But he didn't push the subject.

"I'm so tired," Emily admitted to Hotch after the umpteenth mourner came over to introduce themselves to her and Hotch and greet the children.

"You should eat something," Hotch said. "Or at least drink something."

"I'm okay. I'll eat some more of whatever it was that I ate last night when we get back."

Hotch knew the eulogy was on Emily's mind but still waited for her to bring it up. Once it seemed like everyone had sought them out, she did just that. "Do you think it would be weird to give a eulogy here?" she asked. "This is supposed to be more lighthearted."

"I don't think it matters when or where you say it," Hotch said, rotating his glass of water in his hands.

"What about Will? I guess I assumed one of his friends would give one…no, that's no excuse. I should have written one for him, too. I knew him just as well as anyone else besides JJ." Emily sat in a chair and ran her hands through her hair. Henry took the sitting adult as an opportunity to sit in a lap. Emily couldn't help but smile a bit as she picked him up and sat him on her knee.

"You can add him in, make it one speech," Hotch said.

"I don't think I can think straight enough to read what I wrote, let alone add to it," Emily said, squeezing the bridge of her nose.

Hotch pulled up a chair next to Emily. "If you let me see it, I can work him in there for you," he offered.

"Really?" Emily asked pitifully.

"Of course." Hotch held out a hand. Emily reached behind her and dug the folded pieces of paper out of her purse. She handed over a pen, too. He knew he'd broken her heart, and that she was probably trying very hard right now to accept his offer graciously. Purposely distancing himself from her for six months without explanation did a lot of damage that was going to need repairing. It was going to take effort and patience to get back to the point where she would trust him unconditionally, let him act like her friend again without question. It was time to start giving her a reason.

"Thank you," she said as Hotch's brow furrowed during his reading.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Before long, a knot gradually formed in Emily's stomach. "I don't know if I can do this," she said.

"It's a difficult thing to do. So it's your choice. I won't push you. I'll finish it so it's ready, whatever you decide."

Emily didn't quite know how to thank him. She'd already forgotten about his antics earlier in the day, and their painful history wasn't nagging at her at the moment. For the first time since Hotch had left JJ and Will's house the morning after the accident, she felt at ease with him. And when she had felt at ease with him in the past, things like thanks normally were unspoken but understood. She hoped Hotch felt the same connection again, even if just temporarily.

"Can you read my handwriting?" Hotch asked, handing the first page over to Emily.

"It's neater than mine," she remarked, reading through it quickly.

"Does it sound okay so far?" Hotch asked absentmindedly as he perused the second page.

Emily stayed pointedly silent until Hotch noticed that she hadn't answered yet. After a few moments of non-response, he glanced up from the papers.

"It sounds perfect. It's exactly what I would have said if I could pull myself together and write it on my own."

"Good." Hotch nodded simply and returned to his work. Emily seemed happy to let Hotch continue and she took on diaper and bottle duty while he worked.

"What's that?" Rossi asked, sitting in Emily's vacant seat.

"Something I'm helping Emily with," Hotch mumbled, not looking up.

"Is it a eulogy?"

"Yes, but if anyone asks, Emily wrote the whole thing."

Rossi decided not to make the comments he desperately wanted to make. It wasn't the time or the place. "That's nice of you."

"It's the least I can do. She needs the catharsis. And she basically _did_ write the whole thing, for the record."

"Where'd she go?"

"Uh, I think the baby needed to be fed and Henry needed changing." Hotch's head snapped up. He was about to rise from his chair but Rossi stopped him with a hand to his shoulder and smiled gently.

"Don't worry, I saw Garcia take off with her. She's fine."

"I can't believe I—"

"Aaron, you're doing her a far bigger favor by helping out with this than you would be changing a diaper. Relax. I'm gonna go get a drink. Want something?"

"Yeah," Hotch said offhandedly, already consumed by the task at hand again. "Thanks."

—

"I wish I had half the guts that you do," Garcia said, bouncing Henry on her lap while Emily sat feeding Charlotte, or at least trying to.

"I haven't gone through with it yet."

"But you will. Because you're you. And you're amazing. But…even if you don't, I think JJ already knows every word that's in your heart. She wouldn't be offended if it hurt too much for you to say them."

"They're all good things," Emily said, shrugging. "If I can't go through with it, it's because I'm a coward about public speaking, not because it hurts too much."

"You are _not_ a coward," Garcia said sternly. "Emily. Prentiss. Look. At. Me."

Emily's weary face turned up.

"Three days ago you were living your life normally. Then your best friend passed away and asked you to take her children along with a man you obviously don't want to live with, at least not right now. But you did it anyway. You turned your life upside down for JJ."

"That's different. I was doing what she asked of me. She never asked for me to get up in front of all those people…"

"Then what if I said she'd want you to give the eulogy, just so you could say the things you stayed up all night writing? So you could get the emotional release? Maybe be at peace?"

"I would say that you're Penelope, not JJ," Emily said dryly, turning her attention back to the baby.

"I practically _am_, JJ, my dear. I'm channeling her right now. And I'm saying that she is certain that whatever you wrote down is worth saying. She knows you'll feel better if you say them."

Emily raised an eyebrow skeptically and flashed Garcia a sardonic grin. "I think you're making it sound like JJ just wants to hear all the nice things I have to say about her."

Garcia gave a breathy laugh. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way." She met Emily's eyes and smiled. Emily smiled back. "See? This is what we need. We need to be happy. We need to celebrate JJ's life, not mourn her passing. The baby's not taking any more of that bottle. Burp her and let's—"

"Garcia," Emily moaned.

"If you don't feel better after saying what you have to say, then I will be eternally in your debt."

Emily let out a long breath, cringing when the baby fussed at the removal of the bottle she hadn't been drinking from anyway. Relief washed over her when Charlotte calmed down after being placed against Emily's shoulder.

"Let me take that little thing," Morgan said when Emily reappeared at her table. Rossi and Reid were also congregated there, but they didn't seem to have taken an interest in what Hotch was doing. He looked like he was proofreading. Emily grinned halfheartedly and let Morgan take Charlotte from her.

Emily's heart pounded and her mouth became parched when Hotch rose from his seat and motioned for Emily to follow him out of the room. "Take a look over it," Hotch said. "Sorry it's a little messy."

Emily took the papers from Hotch with shaking hands and read through their combined efforts. She was again in tears by the time she finished. She simply looked up at Hotch and nodded.

"Do you think you're ready?" Hotch asked after a couple minutes of watching Emily read through the eulogy again.

Emily drew in a quavering breath and nodded. "Yeah. God, I'm so nervous. But thank you so much for helping."

"My pleasure." Hotch was caught off guard when Emily stepped up to him and circled her arms around his neck. He gladly hugged her back. "You're going to do just fine. And I think you'll feel a lot better afterward."

Emily nodded as she pulled away, surprisingly not the least bit taken aback by her own actions. She walked back inside and Hotch followed her, but he stopped at their table. She continued on to the front of the room, grabbing a glass of wine on her way and sipping on it while she walked.

"What's Emily going?" Rossi asked Hotch.

"Giving a eulogy. The priest wouldn't let her at the church or the cemetery," Hotch explained to everyone gathered around him.

Emily stood uncertainly at the head of the room, crinkling the papers anxiously in her hands for a good minute before speaking up. "Excuse me," she said far too quietly. She raised her voice. "Excuse me…"

Morgan, apparently having seen her talk and guessing what she was trying to say, stuck two fingers between his lips and whistled loudly, making several people jump. Garcia elbowed him in the side. "What?" he whispered to her with a grin. The room quieted down instantly, and everyone turned their attention toward the source of the shrill whistle. Once Morgan had everyone's attention, he cocked his head toward thee front of the room. People's heads followed.

"Uh, thank you," Emily said. She cleared her throat and spoke as clearly and loudly as she could without yelling. "JJ was one of my best friends. I'm sure you all know by now that I'm one of the guardians to both her children. Along with Aaron back there…raise your hand." Hotch rolled his eyes and waved a hand briefly in the air, giving Emily a soft smile of encouragement. She just laughed awkwardly. "Anyway, I wanted to give a eulogy of sorts, or at least say something about JJ and Will. I wasn't able to do this at the funeral service or at the burial, but I was hoping you all wouldn't mind if I took a minute or two of your time to do it now." Her hands were trembling again, the papers rustling between her fingers. She seemed to have everyone's rapt attention. She kept her eyes on her friends for a moment, then looked down at her and Hotch's writing.

"I first met JJ when I started at the Behavioral Analysis Unit about four years ago. She was…extremely welcoming. I knew instantly that she was probably one of the sweetest people I would ever meet. Being the only two female profilers on our team, we became fast friends. As time went on, I realized that she was the glue that held our team together." Emily paused as some tears rushed down her cheeks, but she didn't wipe them away. She just blinked a few times until her eyes were clear enough to read again. She coughed before saying, "Excuse me. Anyway…she was like a mother to all six of us. She was always willing to listen, to take care of us, and after all, that was her job. Besides dealing with the media, she had to guide families through their most trying times. And it was that nurturing spirit that made her such an amazing person outside of work, too. To be honest, I kind of wondered how a woman like her could be single." This drew a soft laugh from her audience. "I mean, she was beautiful, kind, intelligent…and then she met Will on a case in New Orleans. It was easy to see that she had an eye on him, and about a year later, she came clean about their long distance relationship. We all knew already, of course, but we let her believe she'd kept their secret.

"When she found out she was pregnant with Henry, she was nervous, but I could tell she was also ecstatic. And so was I. How could a woman this wonderful go her whole life without passing on her wisdom and strength and compassion? And she was thrilled to have Will commit and move here. To start a life with him. All this time I'd been wondering how she hadn't been snatched up already, and I finally realized it was because God was waiting for her to find Will. He was the perfect person for her. Just as sweet, just as caring. And yet amidst all that tenderness, he was also her rock. She finally had someone to come home to, to support her the way she supported everyone else. She wouldn't marry Will just yet, and I never really understood why, but knowing JJ, she had her reasons. She might have just been scared, but she didn't let it show. They finally tied the knot in secret a few months ago and told everyone after the fact, which made us all somewhat upset with them. But only for about five minutes." More warm laughs sounded around the room, and Emily found herself chuckling under her breath, too. "Just in the past few months alone, she proved to me, especially, what a true friend really is. She had a growing family of her own, with a beautiful little boy and the man of her dreams, and if I were her I would have been enjoying that and ignoring the world around me, but she still found the time to shoulder the burdens of others. And that was what made JJ as close to perfect as any person I've ever met.

"As for Will, he was as sweet as they come. I don't know how he made it that long without someone else nabbing him, either. But they truly were meant to be together, and it's together that we should remember them. People often tell us to live in the present and forget the past, because the past is gone, but I think we should all take the time to forget the _present_, where we're all mourning the loss of our two loved ones, and remember the past. Let's think about the happy memories instead of dwelling on death. Let's remember how much better all our lives were—and are—because of JJ and Will."

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews so far, and please leave one for this chapter if you have just a spare moment. I really like to know what you think.  
**


	21. Moving On

**February 2011 (Present Day)  
**

Hotch convinced Jack to sleep in his own room that night. He planned on turning in himself once he made sure everyone else was settled. He knew Emily wasn't really in the talking mood, but he wanted to see her one last time before going to bed, as he hadn't really had the opportunity to talk to her since she'd given the eulogy.

"Hey," she said when Hotch knocked on her open door.

"Hey." Hotch just watched as Emily turned down her covers. She was still dressed, just having had put down the baby, but had her pajamas piled on her bed.

"Is there a reason you've been avoiding me all night?" Hotch asked.

"Avoiding you?" Emily frowned and glanced at Hotch briefly.

"Maybe not physically, but you've been avoiding any sort of conversation with me. And I'm not mad, I'm just wondering why. Did I say something?"

Emily sat on the edge of her bed and rubbed her bare heels. "No, no, nothing like that. I just poured my heart into that eulogy. I'm spent. _I _have nothing left to say, to be honest. I didn't want to talk to anyone. Not just you." She stopped rubbing one of her feet but didn't let it go. It just sat crossed over the other as she gazed at the floor.

"You seem disappointed," Hotch observed. He leaned casually against the doorframe so as to suggest he wasn't going anywhere, was planning on having a good talk. He felt guilty, knowing Emily just wanted to go to sleep, but he thought that maybe if he could help her unwind a little before bed that she might sleep better. Or maybe it was simply that he wanted to see her.

"I am disappointed," Emily said, taking a few bobby pins out of her hair and holding them in her mouth.

"What's the matter? I thought the eulogy would help give you some sort of peace."

Emily set her bobby pins on the dresser and started removing her jewelry. "Oh, it did. I'm not disappointed in how things went today. I mean, all things considered, it went…well. As well as a funeral can go, anyway. And it was our first full day with the kids and I have no stains on my clothes and nobody got hurt," she said with a grin. "So in that respect things went _really_ well."

"Then why are you disappointed?"

Emily's eyebrows flashed upward and she tucked her lips in in thought, and, Hotch guessed, in an effort to hold in tears. He'd seen her cry more times than he could count over the past few days. Knowing that most times she didn't want him to do anything about it ate him up inside. This wasn't the Emily he knew, and knowing he could do nothing about it made it that much harder to bear.

"In myself," Emily said shakily. "I think that if I were to rewind a week and think of how I would handle this situation, I would have planned on behaving differently."

"You haven't done anything wrong," Hotch said.

"Maybe not _wrong_. But I've been so weak. I'm not used to breaking down like this. I kept my cool better than _you_ half the time when we were with the BAU. And that's saying something." She dug the sore balls of her feet into the carpet and looked imploringly at Hotch. He wasn't quite sure what she wanted from him—just an ear, or for him to argue and tell her she had nothing to feel bad about.

"This was your best friend. And because of how much time we spent working, rather than seeing our actual families, the team _was _our family. And those of us who remain still are family. You didn't see a dead body in an alley or a morgue. You lost a family member. It's much harder than the things we dealt with at the BAU. You need to cut yourself a break." Thinking back right after he finished, Hotch wasn't sure whether the tone of his argument would have the desired effect. He saw a tear run down Emily's cheek and panicked, knowing he'd made a misstep. Yet again.

"I made things worse. I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean for it to come out that way. I just meant to say that you have a right to be upset. It's okay not to be yourself. That's all."

Emily nodded and hastily swiped the tear away. "I know. I'm not crying because of what you said. I've never lost someone this close to me, so I'm just warning you, I have no idea how long it's going to take me to bounce back. I don't know how long I'm randomly going to burst into tears. Just know that when I do, it probably won't be because of something you said or did, or didn't say or didn't do."

"I'll try to keep that in mind," Hotch said with the slightest smirk.

They both fell silent, and neither moved, not Hotch from the doorway, or Emily from in front of her dresser a few feet away. "Thank you, again, by the way," she said, eying Hotch with genuine gratitude. "For finishing up the speech. For everything. The arrangements, the encouragement…"

"That's what I'm here for. Like you said, we have each other's backs, right?"

A soft smile spread across Emily's face. "Yeah."

"Can you do me a favor?" Hotch asked out of nowhere.

"Sure."

"Let me take the baby for the night, and every other night from here on out. We can split baby duty. And don't set an alarm for tomorrow morning. Sleep in. Sleep as much as you need to."

"I couldn't—"

"You already said 'sure,'" Hotch pointed out, walking over to the bassinet and wheeling it toward the door.

"Fine, but I'm not sleeping in. We have too much to do the next few days. Packing, moving, unpacking, getting Jack into daycare, figuring out a routine…I can't start off by sleeping till noon. And I know you didn't sleep that much last night either."

"Don't make me pull rank on you," Hotch warned.

"You're not my boss anymore."

Hotch stopped in his tracks. "You're right. But…I am the homeowner. You're under my roof. My rules."

"Just for the record, you are _never_ allowed to use that rationale ever again," Emily said with a hint of what sounded like Hotch to be amusement. "And it isn't just your roof. We're going fifty-fifty on everything once we can sit down and figure the numbers out."

"Sixty-forty," Hotch said. "Split Henry and Charlotte up and I have two kids, you have one. Plus us makes five total—"

"I'm not talking money tonight," Emily said, shooing Hotch out the door.

"You started it."

"And I'm ending it. Do you have everything you need for her?"

"Yup, already stocked up," Hotch said from halfway down the hallway. "Wasn't going to let you say no."

"Hey, Hotch?" Emily stepped out into the hall and wrung her fingers in her hands.

"Yeah?" He stopped and turned around.

"Thanks. And goodnight."

Hotch nodded. "Remember, no alarm. And keep your phone off."

"I don't know about the phone. Even with a nine-to-five I still haven't slept with it off. Old habits die hard."

"Then give it to me."

"Goodnight," Emily said with a little laugh.

"Goodnight."

—

"You _sure_ there's room for the other furniture in the basement?" Emily said. She much preferred her own more modern bedroom furniture to the homey stuff originally filling the guest bedroom, now hers. "I can just put mine into storage."

"Nonsense. This is just as much your place as it is mine now. At the very least, you should have a room you enjoy."

"Okay," Emily said, sighing. "I can't believe we have to go back to work tomorrow," she said. She walked downstairs and Hotch followed her. Even though she'd slept all right the past few nights, and even though some combination of Garcia, Reid, Rossi, and Morgan had all insisted on keeping the kids every day so the rest of them could work, the idea of trying to live a normal life the next day sounded unfathomable.

"Tell me about it. How do you want to work transportation with the Henry and Charlotte?"

"I figured we could rotate," Emily said, shrugging. She poured two mugs of stale coffee and handed one to Hotch, who sat at a barstool at the counter.

"That would be a pain with moving the seats back and forth. I don't mind taking them. I have to drop Jack off at school in the morning anyway."

"Yeah, but it's not exactly on the way," Emily argued. "Why don't you take Jack to school and I'll take the others to daycare."

"Because that's unfair. Henry and Charlotte are each twice as much work to haul around than Jack. Let's just…let me know if this is too much, but why don't we have a 'what's yours is mine and what's mine is yours' policy with the vehicles. We could be a lot more flexible that way. And we won't have to move seats around or anything."

Emily smiled suspiciously. "We could just get extra car seats and booster seats. _You_ just wanna drive my car."

"Why would I want to drive your car?"

"Because it's way nicer than yours."

"You're joking, right?" Hotch said with a pleasantly argumentative look.

"Of course. Whatever works. I'm not a man. I'm not attached to my car, so we can swap when need be. And we still need to talk about getting something bigger. Maybe both of us should trade up. Speaking of cars, I was thinking we could just sell their other one and throw the money into the kids' savings instead of keeping the car. Do you think we should rent the house out for now? The market sucks. Maybe we should wait a few years to sell it."

"Okay, these are not details that need to be decided right now. Let's take it day-by-day for a while. Today we need to get the rest of the kids' things put back together and put away. Do we have absolutely everything from your apartment now?"

"I still have a few things left there, but it'll all fit in my car."

"Good, then I can take the U-HAUL back today. Did you find a subletter?"

"Not yet, but it won't take long. Where're you going?" she asked Hotch when he took one last sip of his coffee and rose from his seat.

"There's still stuff left in the truck. I want to get it all inside before Dave and Morgan get here to help put it together."

"Moving furniture isn't a one-man job, you know," Emily said.

"Well, we don't have all day," he said shortly.

Emily raised her eyebrows at him.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to snap. But the earlier we get this done, the earlier we can go to sleep."

Emily tried to smile a little to let Hotch know she wasn't angry. Truth be told, her fuse was just as short as his lately, save for the last five minutes, and she hadn't even had to take care of the kids most of the day. And neither had Hotch. She couldn't imagine how much more stressful things could actually get.

**March 2010**

"We spend far too much time at your place," Emily said when she let herself and Hotch into her apartment. She turned on the first light and threw the keys on the counter, then went straight for the fridge. "Beer?"

"Sure." Hotch accepted a bottle from Emily and sat himself down on the couch in the living room lit only by the distant light in the kitchen. She hit a lamp on her way in. "You're right. How many times have I even been over here since I came to beg you to come back to the BAU?"

"Maybe two or three times," Emily said.

"Must be nice having a place that's always clean," Hotch remarked as Emily sat next to him on the couch.

"Clean also means empty," Emily noted. "I much prefer it with you and Jack, to be honest. Anytime I'm here other than to sleep I don't quite know what to do with myself."

"You mean you don't watch inordinate amounts of TV?"

Emily raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Oh, I do. But besides that. Maybe I should get a cat or a dog or something. No, not a dog. I'm never home."

"I don't even think you're home enough to have a cat."

Emily frowned. "You're right. God, I have no life."

"Occupational hazard."

Emily nodded and ran her hand through her hair. From the corner of her eye, she could see Hotch eying her as they both sipped on their beers. She did a quick mental assessment of what she was wearing. Dress slacks, close-toed shoes, non-teasing t-shirt, blazer. Why was he staring at her? Then again, he'd seen half of it already. He probably remembered exactly what she looked like underneath. She blushed at the thought and hurried to keep the conversation moving.

"Coming home to an empty place really does have its perks, though. I don't have to worry about pleasing anyone else, or having my pajamas match, or shutting the door when I go to the bathroom."

"You go with the door open?" Hotch asked with a slightly scrunched nose.

"You don't? Oh, it's so liberating," Emily sighed, throwing her head over the back of the couch.

"I can only imagine," Hotch said with a chuckle. "I think shower time and bathroom time are the only times I don't get pestered at home. I love him, but—"

"You need your alone time. I imagine every parent does, single or not. No need to feel guilty about it."

"I suppose." Hotch checked his watch. "Jessica said she'd keep Jack until nine. Mind if we fill the time with some TV? No cartoons?"

"Sure thing," Emily said with a smile. She turned the television and cable box on and handed Hotch the appropriate remote. "It's all yours."

—

"I'd better not," Hotch said with a weary sigh when Emily offered him a second beer an hour later. "I need to leave. I have to go get Jack. Even an hour past his bedtime on weekends throws him off."

"Ah. Okay," Emily said, not trying to mask her disappointment. "Leave me all alone, why don't you." She walked back into the kitchen and put one beer back into the fridge but cracked open her own. She set it down on the counter to see Hotch out of the apartment. There were a good four of five feet to work with in the hallway that led to her door, but Hotch didn't use much of it when he walked past Emily to the open door. She swore he was purposely brushing against her.

Hotch didn't know where the urge to kiss Emily came from. He'd done it before and they'd both paid the consequences, had both suffered the slight step backward in what he saw as his most important friendship. But oh, how pitiful she sounded when she half-joked about him leaving her alone. She was trying to be funny, but he couldn't take it that way. He turned on his way out the door and took a step back toward her. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Emily said, hanging onto the doorknob. Her eyes widened a bit, entirely reflexively, when Hotch closed in on her. Was this about to happen? Again? At least they weren't drunk, so if he did make another move, and she let him, then they could both be held completely accountable for their actions. It could be real. She let her eyes droop half-shut as his intentions became clear, his eyes boring into hers as he inched closer. Emily's heart fluttered right before Hotch veered off track, went cheek-to-cheek with her instead, and hugged her.

Emily kicked herself inside.

So did Hotch.

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily held a couple of stray pairs of shoes in her hand and took one last look around her apartment. All the furniture that wasn't going to Hotch's with her she would try to sell to the subletters, whoever they ended up being. So this was it. After five years, she no longer had a place to call her own. Not that it truly mattered. She hadn't even rearranged the furniture once since moving in. And even after she and Hotch had stopped spending time together, she'd spent those six months still working so much that she still barely did more than sleep and sometimes eat at her own place.

She suddenly realized that she'd never lived in the same place for five years running. Not in her entire life. Same city, sometimes, but never the same apartment or house. And now she was committing the next eighteen years of her life, at the very least, to making a home with a man with whom she'd never fallen out of love. Sure, the apartment had been empty and lonely. But it beat having to spend every free moment in her day pretending that living with Hotch was no big deal. She could only hope that the pretending would get easier, or would cease to be pretending.

**A/N: Thank you for the reviews so far. They're very helpful, interesting, and most importantly, motivating! :)  
**


	22. Garcia

**A/N: Been getting some interesting reviews lately. I appreciate the thought that goes into them. Please remember when reviewing that the story isn't done yet. Characters have their reasons for doing things which will be explained in time, given the flashback nature of the story. I am enjoying doing the flashbacks, and most readers seem to like them too, but I hope you can all keep in mind that the flashbacks aren't there for no good reason…much is yet to be revealed. Just trying to make my readers think. :) Keep the reviews coming! **

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Thanks again for watching the kids all weekend," Emily said to Garcia. They stood next to each other at the sink, rinsing dishes that were too numerous for the dishwasher to handle. The six of them had gathered to make a dent in the overabundance of food that Rossi, Morgan, and Reid had made. The kids, somehow more tired than the adults, were all asleep already.

"Oh, please. I wish I could do more for you, honey. _Is_ there anything else I can do?"

Emily smiled and passed a wet plate to Garcia for drying. "No. Well, I take that back. If you could answer the phone if I ever randomly call you—if you have time, of course—in case I have a meltdown, that would be awesome."

"I thought that was implied," Garcia said with a supportive smile. "Seriously, though, anything else? Help you unpack, maybe? You're not done yet, are you?"

"Truth be told, I don't have a lot," Emily said with a shrug. "Mainly clothes and shoes and some books."

"Can I help you even if you don't need it?" Garcia asked brightly.

Emily laughed. "Sure. Tomorrow night?"

"It's a date, as long as I'm in town. So…" Garcia lowered her voice and scooted closer to Emily. "How have things been going?"

"What do you mean by _things_?"

"Is it weird? You know, living with—" Garcia just jerked her head toward the ceiling; Hotch and Rossi were most likely still trying to assemble Henry's bed upstairs.

"It's…different. I still kind of feels like I'm in a hotel. Except no one makes my bed for me."

"You didn't really answer my question."

Emily heaved a giant sigh. "It's complicated. We have a weird history, which I know you've figured out about. So I don't think it's going to be easy, but I don't think it'll be impossible. You know, to raise the kids with him. God, it sounds so weird when I say it aloud."

"I'm asking this under the assumption that you will tell me if you don't want to talk about it—"

"You wanna know about what happened between us," Emily murmured.

"Yeah. Is it okay that I ask? You said you'd tell me someday, right?"

Emily rinsed off another clean plate and handed it to Garcia. "Yeah. It's okay. Just…understand that you're the only person who will know these things apart from me and him. Not even JJ knew."

"Okay," Garcia said quietly. "My lips are sealed."

"Should I start at the beginning or just skip to the juicy parts?" Emily asked with an awkward chuckle.

"There are juicy parts?" Garcia whispered? "Juicy parts, please!"

It was one of those moments when Emily remembered just why she loved someone. Garcia's wit and energy could always bring her out of the doldrums. She was so relieved to be having a normal conversation that she didn't stop to think about why she was suddenly so willing to talk about her and Hotch's past, or at least most of it. The parts that she was ready to talk about. Maybe she felt guilty about never telling JJ about all that had transpired; maybe she felt like she really needed to bond with the only girlfriend she had left. "Umm. Well, the night he got served his divorce papers, and I took off after him—you remember that, right?"

"Uh-huh. Plenty of strange looks from all of us, by the way. Go on."

"I convinced him to go out for drinks. And he got so plastered I practically had to tuck him into bed."

"Am I allowed to laugh at that, or is that a no-no?"

Emily laughed. "I'm laughing, so you can, too. We used to laugh about it once in a while. Wow, it was a long time ago. Over three years..."

"So are there more juicy parts?"

Emily felt the blood rush to her cheeks. It wasn't the hot dishwater that was warming her. She cast a fleeting glance Garcia's way while they continued with the dishes. "You swear you won't say a word? Not even to him? You can't even hint that you know."

"Of course."

"We came this close to sleeping together."

"What? When? _Already_?" Garcia asked frantically but quietly, almost dropping the plate she was toweling off.

"No, remember, this is a _history_ lesson. This happened the night he signed his divorce papers, so almost three years ago. We went out and _both_ of us drank, and one thing led to another, and we ended up back at his apartment."

Garcia's eyes opened wide, as did her mouth. She had completely forgotten about dishes by now. Emily was slowly doing the same. "Oh. My. God."

"I know, I'm a tramp…" Emily started.

"No, no, no, that's not what I was oh-my-godding about, and you're not a tramp," Garcia said hastily, rubbing her hand along the small of Emily's back. "I'm just amazed that—you two—I mean, maybe it's just hindsight bias, but I guess it was kind of obvious you were attracted to each other. Or were you _not_ really attracted to each oher? Was it a completely random thing?"

"It was a really bad decision, and it was made while neither of us could think clearly, but it wasn't completely out of left field for me. And I doubt it was for him either. We'd been seeing a lot of each other. Not romantically, just hanging out at his apartment after work, sometimes when he had Jack, sometimes when he didn't, and nothing had ever happened before that, but it always kind of felt like we were on the cusp."

"So if you both wanted it, why did you stop? And _how_ did you stop? I mean, if you were already making such an unwise decision, you must have been pretty out of it. What was the reality slap?"

Emily cleared her throat. "Haley called the house phone and left a message on the answering machine asking about Jack and the divorce papers."

"You're joking." Garcia's jaw dropped to the floor.

Emily shook her head. "Unfortunately, no."

"So by 'came this close to sleeping together,' how close do you mean? Feel free to stop answering my questions at any time, by the way. I am an endless fount of nosy questions."

Emily smirked. "Pretty close. Close enough to make work awkward for a while."

"I can imagine. Even kissing my boss would have made me so uncomfortable I probably would have had to quit."

"Well, Morgan's your boss now."

"I mean, bosses in general. Derek is not your typical boss," Garcia said cheekily. "So this was almost three years ago…Was it before or after LA?"

"A month before," Emily said. "And this is going to sound terrible, but if I was going to go through some traumatic event, it couldn't have had better timing. Hotch and I were good enough friends by that point in time that I think we were on the road to successfully pretending we'd ever touched one another, and moving on as if that night had never happened. But still, after the abduction, he got all protective, and I acted like it annoyed the crap out of me, but really, it was kind of nice. Not that you guys weren't protective. But when it's someone you're…"

"Attracted to."

"Sure. When it's someone you're attracted to, the attention just feels different. After…what happened…being in a relationship was kind of the last thing on my mind. I was still really shaken. And I think that the nature of what happened—I mean, me being abducted—allowed him to look past that night, too. He was just as upset as I was, if nore more. Partially because he blamed himself for what happened, and partially because of our friendship. He cared about me. Whether or not it was romantically, I don't know for sure. But in any case, the abduction kind of wiped the slate clean in a sense. We don't really talk about that night anymore. And like I said, I wasn't interested in a relationship right after that. But I think he kind of always stuck around in the back of my head as an option. Even though he was my boss."

"Is that why you kind of fell apart when he left?"

Emily looked up from the sudsy water. "Was I that bad?"

Garcia's bottom lip popped out in a pout. "You weren't Emily anymore."

Emily nodded in defeat. "Well, he and I were really close. And I could've gotten over him not telling me about his retirement before everyone else, if he'd actually made an effort to stay friends with me. It wasn't really the not-telling-me-first that got to me, but the immediate distance it put between us. It was easier just to blame it all on that little slip-up rather than admit that I flat-out missed him. It felt like he just…dumped me. Not in a romantic sense, because we weren't dating, obviously, though there were probably a dozen times where something _almost_ happened. Anyway, it was like he broke up our friendship. And he never would explain why. Still won't." Emily shrugged in defeat.

"And you trust him with the kids? With all of this?"

"Oddly, I do. He's an amazing father. Maybe he wasn't doing the best job before Haley died, but that truly did change him."

"But Henry and Charlotte aren't his children."

"But he made a promise by becoming Charlotte's godfather that he would take care of her should something happen. And we talked very seriously about it before we agreed to do this. Maybe we didn't take a lot of time to talk about it, but we got feelings out in the open—"

"Did you talk about your feelings for each other, or lack thereof?" Garcia cut in.

"No, because that wasn't what mattered at the time."

"Honey, I have the kids' best interests at heart when I say this. But how you and Hotch feel about each other _is_ a big deal. It decides what environment the kids are going to grow up in. I know it sounds inappropriate talking about romantic relationships so soon after everything that's happened, but you need to make it clear to Hotch whether the future could hold a relationship for you two. Or whether you can only be friends."

"Friends," Emily said immediately.

"Why do you say that so fast?"

"Because I don't want to get hurt again," Emily said frankly. "He knows that he hurt me and he swore he wouldn't do it again. And him leaving was the only time he really messed up with me. I don't think I can keep punishing him for one bad move when he was such a good friend for so long before that. When he left I felt like a big piece of me just disappeared, and then when JJ died—" A lump formed in Emily's throat and when she looked Garcia in the eye, she could tell the name had struck a chord for her, too. "When JJ died, I felt like I was running at maybe five percent. And I still don't know why I called Hotch first. Not a single name crossed my mind before his. Maybe deep down inside I knew I could still depend on him. And we've had our ups and downs since that night but ever since we got the kids back, things haven't been so tense."

"So then why on earth did you say 'friends?' It seems like things are looking up for you two."

"Just because I want to let him of the hook doesn't mean I can trust him again. With the kids, of course. But not with me."

"Then you haven't truly forgiven him."

"Forgiving and forgetting are two different things," Emily said. She moved the conversation to the dining room table.

"Does he have the option of earning your trust back?"

"Let's just say I don't plan on making him do that. All that matters to me is that the kids get what they need. I didn't do this to play games with Hotch. I did it for the kids. I'll do my absolute best to make sure that any feelings Hotch and I have for one another don't get in the way. I had already kind of given up on him once he left the BAU anyway. This—us living together and the need to keep it platonic—just kind of seals the deal. Friends only."

"You don't need to keep it platonic," Garcia said. "You just need to keep it clear."

"I _want_ to keep it platonic."

"Well, does Hotch know this?" Garcia pried.

"I'm pretty sure."

"Uh-huh…right…have you _told_ him?"

Emily stared at Garcia's curiously raised eyebrows, then lowered her own eyes guiltily.

"Emily?" Jack said mouse-like from the doorway.

"Yeah, sweetie. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I couldn't sleep." Jack hugged a teddy bear as he walked over to Emily. He climbed into her lap without permission.

"Why not?" she asked nervously, rubbing his back. She had no problem mothering Jack. But when someone else was around—usually Hotch, but in this case Garcia—she felt like she was under severe scrutiny.

"Henry stole the blankets."

"Okay, well, your dad and uncle Dave are putting Henry's bed together right now. By tomorrow night his bed will be ready in your room but you'll have your own bed back again. Sound good?"

"Can I sleep with you tonight?"

Emily sighed, remembering what Hotch had told her the night before JJ's funeral, about not wanting to continue coddling Jack.

"Please?" he asked with wide yet sleepy eyes when Emily didn't answer right away.

"Okay, but tonight's the last night, okay? Go climb in."

Jack was too young to realize he should mask his glee. He took off running, leaving his teddy bear behind. Emily picked it up.

"Oh, and you need to talk about that, too," Garcia said. "He seems like he's really attached to you. You need to find out how Hotch sees you fitting in with Jack."

"I know," Emily said with a slight groaning noise.

"Sounds like you have a lot to talk about," Garcia said.

"I'm so tired," Emily moaned, dragging her hands down her face. "I can't do any more talking tonight."

"Then talk to him tomorrow night," Garcia said.

"You're here tomorrow night."

"Not all night."

"Why are you being pushy?" Emily asked with loving frustration.

"Because I love all…" Garcia held up her hands and counted on her fingers. "…_five_ of you, I want you all to be happy, and I don't think that can happen if you don't clarify your expectations for the future. Because if Hotch expects something he's not going to get, he won't be happy. And if he's not happy…well, when Hotch isn't happy, no one's happy. And that's not fair to the munchkins."

"I know. You're right," Emily conceded.

"Well, duh."

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading! Please leave a review if you have just a spare moment to let me know what you think. Reviews are helpful to the writing process.  
**


	23. Friends Know Best

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

"Anything else?" Rossi asked Hotch. Henry's bed was assembled in Hotch's room, ready to be moved into Jack's room the next day. Hotch had seen Jack leave his room and come back up a couple of minutes later and return to Emily's. Deciding that the best way to start a family—or whatever it was that they had—would _not_ be to undermine Emily's authority, he didn't stop Jack. He did realize the uncomfortable truth, though, that he would have to talk with Emily about how she would fit into Jack's life. He knew how he _wanted_ her to fit into Jack's life, and into his own, but he was growing suspicious that his expectations and hopes were far removed from reality.

"Nothing we can do while the boys are asleep. Henry still has a ton of clothes that need to be put away, and so does the baby, but the dressers are in Jack's and Emily's rooms." Hotch shrugged and looked around his own room to see if they had brought up anything else that needed assembling. He finally looked up at Rossi. "So I think that's it. Thank you for helping out."

"Don't mention it," Rossi said. Hotch was about to leave the room, presumably to see Rossi out for the night, but Rossi said, "Hang on."

Hotch turned back with a curiously wrinkled forehead.

"Did I see Jack go into Emily's room a few minutes ago?"

"Yeah. He likes to sleep in there."

"Because he's attached to Emily or because he doesn't like sharing his own bed?"

"A little of both," Hotch said. "He hasn't complained about Henry yet, but he's been more tired in the mornings. He's probably not sleeping quite as well sharing a bed, that's all." Rossi nodded ambiguously. "What?" Hotch asked.

"I think you have absolutely no idea what's going on here," Rossi said. He lowered his voice. "Not with Jack, not with Emily, not with any of it."

"If I had no idea what was going on, I wouldn't have gone into this in the first place, Dave." Hotch knew Rossi wasn't going to let him off the hook any time soon, so he sat on the edge of his bed.

"Okay, then tell me this. Is Emily going to have the same level of authority as you do over Jack?"

Hotch rolled his eyes, then leaned over to pinch the bridge of his nose. "That's not something we've discussed yet, but I'm pretty sure we're on the same page."

"Which is?"

Hotch shrugged. "I trust her with Jack."

"That in no way answers my question."

"Look, Dave—"

"Aaron, you _need_ to think about these things. Yesterday. Today's already too late. They've already moved in. What are you going to do if things don't go the way you planned?"

"I don't have any solid plans. I'm just going to see what happens," Hotch said, not meaning to sound careless, just open-minded.

"So you _don't_ have a clue what's going on." Rossi squatted down onto Henry's bed frame.

"I'm not entirely without a plan."

"Oh, you have plans? Let's hear 'em. Do any of them involve Emily?"

"All of my plans involve all five of us."

"Nice job dodging the question, but you're talking to the master here. Do you have any plans involving Emily?"

Hotch glared at Rossi, knowing his friend had him cornered. He couldn't answer. He wasn't sure of the answer himself. There were hopes and dreams—that she would forgive him, that she would give them another shot even though they'd never really had a _first_ one because of him—but those weren't plans. Plans depended on Emily's reaction, which Hotch was still trying to read.

"I'm gonna be frank with you, Aaron. You told me all you had in mind for Emily was friendship last time we talked about this. But you saying that you no longer have a plan makes the friendship thing hard to believe. I think you have a tentative plan, to get back to a place with her where you can try and make a move, and I'm going to continue being frank with you. I think that's a terrible idea." Rossi ignored Hotch's angry stare. "I don't know whether Emily wants a relationship with you, but you being wishy-washy about it doesn't bode well for this situation at all. If you can't commit to a plan of action with one person, how can you commit to a plan of action for an entire family?"

"It's not like we _chose_ this. It chose us. And we'll deal with it as best we can. We can't decide everything right away."

"You're using the word 'we' a lot. Do you mean 'we' or 'I'? Because I don't see you talking to her about how you two are going to deal with this. I see you looking at her like you want her, and you know what, if that's what happens, and you guys can do that responsibly, do it the right way and commit to each other to build a stable home for these kids, then that's great. I'd support you one hundred percent. But this is all one-sided so far. It's clear that you two had _something_ going on before this, and I won't nose into that right now, but whatever that _something_ was is making this sticky. You really need to talk to her. She might not be on the same page as you at all. Find out her expectations. Before it's too late."

Hotch was glad Rossi decided not to be nosy about his and Emily's past. He figured one day, somehow, it would all end up out in the open, but he wasn't ready for that. "I thought you said I should have thought of this yesterday. Isn't it _already_ too late?" Hotch retorted as they both rose.

"Better late than never. I know you think this is none of my business—"

"It is. You're a part of this odd extended family that we have, and you're a good friend. I trust your advice."

"So are you gonna take it?" Hotch nodded once and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Are you going to tell her the truth, or are you going to cheat and feel things out before you formulate a plan? Maybe short-change yourself for the next eighteen years because you're afraid that being honest will scare her off?"

"I don't know yet. But I'll talk to her."

"Good. Sorry for the tough love."

Hotch smirked despite himself. "You always seem to know when people need it."

**New Year's Eve 2010**

JJ had seen the awkward glances Hotch and Emily had exchanged throughout the entire party. The tension had been almost too thick to bear, especially when it seemed like most of the other guests were couples. JJ and Emily were sitting on the former's couch after everyone else had left, including Hotch. JJ guessed it be two or three in the morning.

"You okay?" she asked, placing a hand on Emily's knee. Emily responded by nodding and covering JJ's hand with her own. "I know it was kind of awkward with Hotch here, especially since you just saw him at Christmas, too. It's like you can't get away. I feel like the mutual friend of a couple that just broke up. I don't know what to do. Tell me. Do you want me to stop inviting him to things? Because I can. You're my number one."

"You can be friends with both of us. I'll learn how to deal eventually. I'm sorry if I was a party pooper tonight. I just…" Emily heaved a sigh and shrugged.

"What?"

"I can't look at him without wondering where we'd be if he hadn't left." Tears rimmed Emily's lower lashes as she turned to face JJ, who looked utterly heartbroken at the sight. She'd had her suspicions that Hotch and Emily had been on the verge of becoming more than friends. After Hotch's confirmation of his feelings a week ago, it was only Emily's feelings about which JJ wasn't a hundred percent certain. Since Hotch and Emily had started seeing more of each other years ago, JJ had wondered, but hadn't asked. And she'd pushed, but hadn't asked. Never outright. Not even since Hotch had left Emily in pieces. JJ didn't ask partly because she was almost certain she knew what was going on and didn't really need Emily to tell her, but also out of respect for Emily's feelings. But now Emily seemed ready to talk. JJ tried to ignore the little sting she felt, knowing that Hotch had confided in her before Emily had. She was eager to listen.

"Everything okay?" Will asked, wandering into the living room with a few empty champagne glasses he'd collected.

"We need a minute," JJ informed him. Will nodded understandingly and headed to the kitchen.

"You wanted more, didn't you?" JJ asked Emily.

Heat crept up from Emily's chest and all throughout her face. "Is that so wrong?"

Despite the fact that her best friend was breaking down in front of her, JJ couldn't suppress the little glimmer of hope. If Emily and Hotch both felt the same way about one another—even if Hotch felt like a relationship wasn't in the cards, and even if Emily was upset with him—then she couldn't help but wonder how much time it would take before they were both able to be honest with each other. She saw a light at the end of the tunnel and hoped they did, too.

"No, it's not wrong," JJ said, smoothing a hand up and down Emily's back. "You'd been good friends for a long time. It's completely natural that your friendship would progress."

"It didn't progress. That's the thing. I was blinded…I was living some fantasy where I was sure he felt the same way, and then came the rude awakening. You know what I've felt ever since he left, more than anything else? Stupid."

JJ felt her own eyes watering and avoided Emily's forlorn gaze. She cursed Hotch for swearing her to silence. She resented him even more now that she knew for sure that Emily had—and maybe still—felt something for him. She pulled Emily close. "You are not stupid."

**February 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily made sure they were stocked on clean bottles and formula before turning in. The baby was asleep, and so was Jack. Smack dab in the middle of her bed. She lifted him gingerly and moved him to the side, then climbed in and covered them both up. When he rolled back into her chest in his sleep, as if his body was gravitating toward the warmth, she wondered why Hotch hadn't questioned him sleeping with her tonight. Had he not seen him switch rooms, or did he not want to argue with her decision? Deciding that thinking was not on the agenda tonight, as she was exhausted, she turned off her lamp.

"Goodnight," Hotch said popping his head through the open doorway.

"'Night," Emily murmured, staring down at Jack instead of looking up at Hotch.

"Is he okay in here?"

Emily nodded against her pillow, closing her eyes.

"Are _you_ okay?"

"Just tired," Emily said softly.

"Want me to take the baby?"

"It's my turn. I'll be fine." Emily sighed.

"Okay. Goodnight."

Emily was about to drift off when her conversation with Garcia crossed her mind again. She rolled her eyes for no one to see. She knew she needed to talk to Hotch, to clarify several boundaries, but did she really want to clarify this one? Seal their fate? Did she want to live with him platonically for the next however many years? Did she want to live with him platonically at all? Saying no to Hotch would doom herself to singlehood, she was certain. She couldn't exactly get married to someone else without further complicating the household dynamics. And she didn't want to date unless the end goal was marriage. She was feeling a tad too old for casual dating. So it was Hotch or nothing.

But none of that mattered unless she could decide what Hotch was to her. A friend she couldn't trust as something more, even though she still loved him…or a friend she _wanted_ to trust because of that very same love.

—

"Jack, remember what I told you about the bus?" Hotch asked the next morning as he and Emily rushed to get everyone where they needed to go, including themselves.

"I'm gonna ride the bus to daycare after school."

"Exactly. Your teacher will show you to the bus after school today so you know where it is. And the nice people at the daycare will be waiting outside for you and the other kids who go there."

"Am I going to Auntie Jessie's too?"

Emily had been walking around the kitchen fixing herself a travel mug of coffee, Henry toddling around after her in his boots and jacket, and the click of her heels on the tile faltered at this question from Jack. She wasn't trying to eavesdrop, but then again, she supposed, it probably wasn't considered eavesdropping if she was already in the same room as they were, and Jack and Hotch's conversation was the only one going on. It was more like overhearing. She couldn't think of anything to distract herself enough from listening in as she finished fixing her coffee.

"We talked about this, kiddo. You're going to go to daycare after school now instead of Auntie Jessie's. Then when I get out of work, I'll come get you. Or Emily, depending on who drove you to school. Okay?"

"Okay," Jack said quietly.

"Go get your backpack and put your boots on."

Emily wasn't looking, but she could hear a little stomp in Jack's step as he left the kitchen. Hotch sighed and pressed his fingers against his forehead. "Great start to the day," he said, making no attempt to disguise his exasperation.

"Aaron, whatever you decide for him is going to be the right thing. You know and love him more than anyone else does. Maybe he won't like everything you decide for him at first, but you're his dad. And you've got about forty years on him. You know better than he does. And ultimately he trusts you. So trust yourself." She didn't know where the words came from, but she was grateful for them. Hotch's forehead smoothed out and he gave a tiny nod of gratitude. Emily crouched down and picked up Henry and grabbed her coffee with her other hand. "You sure you don't want to split up driving duty? We could probably sleep in an extra five or ten minutes if we streamline and get the kids where they need to go more efficiently."

"I'm sure I'll be tired enough at the end of the day to consider that," Hotch said as he zipped up Jack's coat for him. "But we don't have time to fool around with the seats right now. Trust me, they're a pain."

"Well, I feel bad, you're doing all the work today," Emily said, squatting down to see if she could grab her briefcase in the same hand that held her travel mug. Hotch saw her balancing act and slung her briefcase over his own shoulder. "And you're carrying my briefcase, even," she laughed. "Thanks." She glanced back toward the kitchen where Charlotte waited, sleeping, in her car seat, and wondered how many trips it was going to take to get everything outside. And tried to do the math in her head to figure out how many days of the rest of her life would start in a similar frenzy.

"No problem. If it bothers you that much then we'll figure out something else tonight," Hotch said. "We need to talk anyway. About a lot of things."

Hotch had beaten Emily to the punch, which, at the moment, didn't really bother her. It might put him more in control of the conversation they needed to have, but at least she hadn't had to bring it up. "Yeah. We do." The cold air shocked Emily's face and hands when Hotch opened the front door. "Oh, hey, do you want coffee?" she asked. "I didn't think to fix you any. I'm really nice like that, aren't I?"

"I'm fine. I'll get some at the office," Hotch said. He set his briefcase on his passenger seat and opened up the back door. Jack climbed in and Emily brought Henry over.

"We forgetting anything?" Emily asked while Hotch buckled the boys in.

"Umm." Hotch patted his pockets. "I have my keys, my phone…Do you have yours?" Emily checked her pockets and nodded. "Then I guess we're good."

"I don't know, I still feel like we're forgetting something," Emily said. "You know that nagging feeling? It's gonna drive me nuts."

"Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Yeah? Make it quick, we're running late." Hotch ducked down to look in at his son.

"Where's the baby?"

**A/N: Please leave a review. They are very helpful and motivating :)**


	24. Wet T Shirt Contests and Cold Ones

**February 2011 (Present Day)  
**

Emily left work as soon as she could in an effort to beat Hotch home. Still feeling guilty that he was toting the kids around, she figured the least she could do was get dinner started and help him unload the kids when they did get home.

"Long day?" she asked Hotch while she helped Henry out of his jacket and boots.

"Not necessarily long, but I felt distracted all day," Hotch admitted.

"A lot to think about," Emily said.

"And a lot to talk about."

"Yeah. Once everyone who knows how to talk is otherwise occupied, or better yet, in bed," Emily said with a smirk. "Let's eat. I'm starving."

—

"Whose turn is it?" Hotch asked, carrying Charlotte at arm's length into Emily's room.

"Yours," she said as she opened up a box of clothes. "The changing pad's lying around here somewhere. Can't wait till the office is converted just so I won't have the smell of poo-poo in my room."

"Did you just say 'poo-poo'?"

Emily laughed with her head inside the cardboard box. "Yeah, I think I did."

"I can change her somewhere else," Hotch said.

"I was just teasing. Here." Emily pulled the folded changing pad from underneath her bed and laid it and the supplies out for Hotch. "Oh, wow, that is kind of stinky. Enjoy."

"Thanks," Hotch said dryly. "All right, kid. Here's the deal. We make this quick and painless. In and out in less than a minute would be great."

"Oh my goodness," Emily mumbled, but a smile spread from ear to ear. Hotch's subsequent groan of agony a moment later startled her. She looked up and he was staring at the baby in disgust.

"That bad?" Emily asked.

"Worse. Come take a whiff."

"I think I'm all right." She let Hotch do his thing until the baby started shrieking.

"What did I do?" Hotch asked the baby.

"She's freezing her butt off. And you looked at her like she was a monster. You have to make this a positive experience. You can tell her she stinks to the high heavens, but do it with a smile."

"How do you know these things?" Hotch asked above the cries.

"Lots of baby shows on TV."

"When have you had time to watch TV since we got the kids?"

"It's been one of my guilty pleasures for a while," Emily said. "Actually, you know what, she needs a bath tonight. Want me to—"

"I'll get it this time." Hotch almost sounded glad to take on the extra task as he cleaned up the mess. "You said Garcia's coming over tonight to help you unpack?" he asked on his way to the bathroom.

"Yeah, she really wanted to," Emily replied. A knock sounded downstairs. "Speak of the devil."

Emily was squeezed nearly to death upon opening the door for Garcia. "How was your first day back?" Garcia asked.

"Exhausting. Yours?"

"Same. So, where is everyone? I want to see the little ones."

"Everyone's upstairs. Come on up."

Once Garcia got her fix of the children, she and Emily made relatively quick work of unpacking Emily's clothes and other things while Hotch bathed Charlotte and the boys played miraculously quietly in Jack's room. Jack seemed much more comfortable now that Henry had his own bed and Jack's space was no longer being invaded quite as much.

"You didn't have to come over, you know," Emily said after a while. "There wasn't much to do."

"I wanted to see you all. Especially you."

"You don't need an excuse to come over," Emily said with a soft smile. "You're welcome any time. Hey, I'll be right back." Emily went to the bathroom to check on Hotch's progress but it was empty. She continued to his room and walked in just as he was peeling off his t-shirt. "Oops," she said, blushing. It was nothing she hadn't seen before, and not really something to be embarrassed about under normal circumstances, but given the emotional climate, she couldn't help but react like she'd walked in on him naked.

"Oh, sorry."

"I walked in without knocking. My fault," Emily said from the hallway.

"It's not really a big deal," Hotch said, though he decided not to increase the awkwardness of the situation and stayed out of view while he put another shirt on. "I was just having a wet t-shirt contest with myself after giving the baby a bath," he quipped.

Emily let out a breathy laugh. "Nice. I was just coming to check in. Everything all right?"

"Affirmative."

"All right." Emily turned back toward her room and saw Garcia waiting at her door with a delightfully curious look. Emily just rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"You're blushing. What happened?" Garcia asked in a whisper, shutting Emily's door behind her.

"Nothing."

"Right. Did you walk in on him naked or something?"

"Just changing his shirt. He got it wet."

"Hmm." Garcia plopped down on Emily's bed and folded her hands in her lap.

"Hmm, what?"

"Your almost-sex _did_ involve seeing him without a shirt, right?" Garcia asked.

"It was almost-sex, so yes. Almost-sex doesn't happen fully-clothed. I thought you were trying to discourage the idea of me and him, anyway," Emily said.

"No, _you_ were. I was discouraging being vague about it. I just think it's cute that you got a nip-slip and you're red as a tomato."

"A _nip-slip_?" Emily snorted. "Oh, Garcia. That is why I love you."

"Seriously, maybe you should return the favor. That'd clear things _right_ up!" Garcia joked. "Has he already seen those?" she asked, wiggling her eyebrows.

"Too nosey," Emily warned.

"I'll stop prying, but that's a 'yes' if I ever heard one."

"You're ridiculous. Seriously, I thought you were with me on this. Friends. That's it."

"I am with you, sweetie. I'm sorry, you know that's how I cope with awkwardness. I jest."

"I know. It's fine. So, change of subject. How are things going at the BAU?" Emily asked while she broke down an empty box.

"The BAU will never be the same."

"I know Morgan took Hotch's place right away, and it was easy because he'd already played the part, but what about Morgan's spot, and mine and JJ's? Have you guys talked about replacing us yet?"

"That's between Morgan and Strauss, and Morgan refused to hire a replacement for you. He said he wanted to see how the team could operate with five."

"And how did it?"

"Things were more stressful," Garcia admitted.

"And now that you don't have JJ?"

"Well, we obviously haven't picked up a case yet. I guess we'll see how it goes. My guess is we'll have to start looking. I don't think there's any way four of us can do the job, especially when I don't go out in the field."

Emily nodded somberly and wondered what her life might be like right now had she not resigned. JJ wouldn't have asked her to babysit because she, Emily, would still have been working the same ridiculously long hours, and if she hadn't been babysitting, the timing would have been different, and the accident wouldn't have happened. Emily didn't blame herself, really, but couldn't help but wonder.

"I miss you so much," Garcia said after a long moment of silence between them. "I understand there's no way you can come back now, but just know that you are sorely missed by everyone, not just me. The guys knew I was coming over tonight so I guarantee you they're going to ask me about you all day. And Hotch. And how crazy it is that you guys are shacking up. How weird is it, anyway?"

"Be more specific. All of it's weird."

"I don't know, do you wear a bra around the house at night?"

Emily snorted again. "For now. I'm sure I'll get over it eventually."

"Does he walk around in his underwear?"

Emily couldn't remember the last time she was so giggly. It had to have been months. "No. But honestly, did you think he did when he lived alone?"

"So he _does_ sleep in a suit and tie," Garcia said cheekily.

"He stays covered up."

"Can I ask more questions?"

"As long as you understand I might not answer them," Emily said. "Be my guest."

"If you two don't end up together, then how are either of you going to date? I mean, you're wonderful enough that I'm sure a sensible man would still want to be with you even though you live with a very attractive man you're not married to, but what would that be like? You're both committed to raising the kids together, so could you ever get married?"

"I was thinking the same thing last night," Emily said. "As scary as it sounds to be with him, the pragmatic part of me is talking to the part of me that wants to get married someday and it's saying, 'Hey, there's a pretty good guy living down the hall. Give it a shot.' But then this other part of me says, 'No. It already ended before it started once. There are three other people in this house who are more important than your love life. They deserve to be raised in a stable environment without the inherent risk of dating somebody. This isn't a 'give it a shot' type of situation. It's all or nothing.' And to be honest, I don't think he and I are ready to go 'all or nothing' even if we wanted to. We're still getting to know each other again and all of this is so new. It would just be such a bad idea." Emily sighed to signal the end of her monologue. She sat down next to Garcia and held her hand when Garcia put an arm around her.

"You know the only solution to this."

Emily nodded. "I know we need to talk. But I don't know what to say."

—

"Beer?" Hotch asked from the fridge. It had been a wonderfully uneventful night as far as getting the kids to bed by eight, but he still felt like a cold one was in order.

"That a good idea?" Emily joked.

"I said one, not ten," Hotch replied in good humor. He handed Emily a beer anyway and followed her into the living room.

"I never asked how _your_ day was," Hotch said, taking one end of the historical couch. The recliner was vacant, but Emily took the other end of the couch and faced Hotch, sitting on her feet. "So, how was it?" he asked with a slight grin when Emily didn't answer.

"It was okay, I guess. Tiring. I missed the kids."

"Me too."

Emily was amused at how expertly they were avoiding eye contact. It was much like the first few weeks after their rendezvous at Hotch's apartment. Neither occurrence had been resentful on either of their parts, just awkward. "So," she said.

"So…" Hotch drummed his fingers against his beer bottle, then took a sip. Emily followed suit just to stall.

"We need to talk," Emily said.

"We do."

"Do we want to set a specific order of things, or just say what comes to mind?"

"Well, what comes to mind?" Hotch asked.

"Not fair," Emily said, casting Hotch a half-smirk.

"Fine, I'll start. I want to know how you feel about Jack. I know you're both very fond of each other, but we need some definition there, I think. What do you want to be to him?"

"What do _you_ want me to be to him?"

"I know he isn't yours, and that he and I came as a package deal, and there was nothing you could do about that. Taking in two kids out of the blue must be stressful enough. And I'm not asking you to take on extra responsibility with him, really. Nothing beyond what you already do, which I appreciate more than I can put into words. And what I love best about that is I don't even have to ask you to do what you do for him, and I know you wouldn't have it any other way. Anyway, I would prefer it if you we established you as an authority figure. I think it would be best for all the kids if they were treated the same way."

Emily nodded. _That was an easy one_. "No-brainer. I love them all the same already. And I'm gad that you trust me with him."

"You're still thinking about that time I snapped at you, aren't you?" Hotch asked guiltily.

"No," Emily said sincerely. "Not at all." Though, now that Hotch mentioned it, memories flooded her mind of the night he apologized for snapping. How they had come close to kissing yet again, but Jack had interrupted them. "I forgave you and I meant it."

"Good." Hotch's face was warm, though he wasn't smiling. "Then we'll be a united front. I won't undermine your authority. But just for the record, we do have to keep him in his own bed at night."

"I love hosting him but you're right," Emily said, laughing under her breath. "Can't get him used to special treatment."

"Exactly."

"Any othr rules you have set that I should know about?" Emily asked.

"Nothing's changed since…you know." Hotch's eyebrows shot up quickly and fell just as fast. "Since before I left. In bed by eight, no sugar after dinner unless it's the weekend, the usual. Oh—except, now that he's sharing a bathroom with you, he needs to put the seat down. Has he been?"

Emily giggled. "No, I don't think he knows. But it's no big deal."

"It is. I'll talk to him."

"All right. So, have we covered that topic adequately?"

"I believe so," Hotch said. "Next item on the agenda?"

"Anything that we need to talk about regarding Henry and Charlotte?"

"I think we've been on the same page with them so far, minus your philosophy on making diaper-changing a positive experience," Hotch said with a hint of a smile.

"And in terms of rooms, Jack seems fine sharing with Henry now. Hopefully that lasts. When do you want to start converting the office?"

"Maybe next weekend."

Emily realized they were both skirting around the real purpose of the conversation. They were equally guilty of stalling. "Then I guess there's only one thing left."

Hotch nodded knowingly yet with apprehension. His eyes finished their wandering around the room and he searched for Emily's. She had apparently also found the importance of eye contact and was already looking right his way, biting her lip. They stared at each other for a good long moment, both seemingly trying to get the talk over and don with via telepathy. As well as they had always gotten each other, Hotch was the first to admit it wasn't going to work that nicely.

"I think we actually need to talk instead of staring at each other."

"Probably." Emily took a distracting drink of her beer.

Even though Hotch had set the stage, neither one of them could find the courage to say another word just yet. And so resumed the staring contest. This gave Emily time to think. Garcia had left just before she and Hotch had put the children down, and that had only been a few minutes ago. She and Garcia hadn't really progressed in terms of talking things out, and Emily hadn't had a moment to process anything since then, so she still didn't know the words that eventually had to come out of her mouth.

Her own experiences that had little to do with him had presented her with some relationship issues, which she had swept under the rug long ago, but which forced themselves out now. Was she _fully_ ready for him? Or even to try with him, if merely giving it a shot were an option? Maybe he would be the one to help her overcome that obstacle. She'd spent a good two years in the interim hoping they could be together, so she had gone quite a while without giving the events much thought in terms of her ability to be with somebody. Hotch had always seemed like a viable option once she was able to think about relationships again. But now that the decision to be with him could drastically alter the lives of three helpless, non-consenting individuals, her brain was telling her that a little more scrutiny would be prudent. So maybe she wasn't ready. But maybe she was.

For the time being, she operated under the assumption that she and her problems weren't the limiting factors here, and got to thinking about Hotch as a partner—what he could and could not bring to the table. He wasn't a bad person. Far from it. Confused, yes. Scared, yes. Slightly untrustworthy, yes. But the only explanation Emily had come up with for his leaving was that she had gone too far, too fast. That he had felt pressured. _How can I blame him for leaving? He knew what I wanted but he wasn't ready, so he ran. He could have handled things better, yes, but I could have been less pushy about it._ But speculation could only get her so far. She needed to know for sure before she felt comfortable making a potentially life-altering decision. She cleared her throat. "I think that before we talk about where we stand and where we're going, I need to know why you left. A good explanation of why you left. Everything."

**A/N: Thanks so much for your continued support. Please leave a review if you have a moment! Like I said, they are greatly appreciated. **


	25. If We Could Be Selfish

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews on the last chapter. Please keep them coming! Here's the rest of "the talk."**

Hotch had been worrying in the back of his mind that it might come down to this. When he stopped to think about it, he supposed he knew that he'd have to tell her everything eventually. But if they were sitting down to make such an important decision, was telling her that he had been and was still in love with her really the best idea? Could they think with clear heads if they started talking about feelings? Or was that the entire point of the conversation—to get absolutely everything out in the open?

"Please," Emily said when Hotch didn't answer for a long moment and his eyes had drifted away.

"I'm just…thinking of how I want to phrase it," Hotch said distantly.

"Just say whatever it is you're thinking. Don't try to phrase it a certain way."

Hotch locked eyes with Emily again and said the hardest thing he'd had to say in quite a long time. "I felt that our friendship was becoming something more, or was about to become something more. I got scared. I wasn't ready. But I was pretty sure that you were. I did want to be with you, but at the same time I was terrified. I loved what we already had and I was scared that if we took the next step and things didn't work out, then I'd just be needlessly hurting you. And I couldn't be around you and maintain my distance at the same time. I didn't think it would be fair to keep you around and lead you on, because I knew that's what I was doing, and it wasn't helping. And it wasn't right. It wouldn't have been fair to you. But in the end you ended up hurting anyway, even though I'd hoped that my distancing myself would be less painful than a bitter break-up. Not to be pessimistic. Just…realistic. Relationships don't last for a lot of reasons. Now I'm rambling."

Emily almost regretted demanding an explanation. Everything he said was nothing really unique to what she'd already thought she had figured out. But hearing the words come out of his mouth, especially when he said he'd wanted to be with her, made their predicament far more real. Hotch was looking at her in anticipation, and then with a frown. Suddenly she realized her mouth was downturned as well. She quickly picked it back up. "Okay." She went through Hotch's explanation a couple of times in her head, and on the second run-through she realized that Hotch had said he knew she wanted him. She wasn't sure whether she was upset with him for putting words in her mouth or for still leaving her despite knowing about her feelings.

"Any other…reaction?"

"Yeah. Why did you completely cut me off? I mean, when you make a change to any sort of relationship, don't you think it's your responsibility to adjust to maintain order? Because you never outright said to me that you didn't want me in your life. You said you were retiring and you'd still be around. But you weren't."

"I thought that was what you meant by me leaving. That I didn't stick around like I'd said I would. I _retired_ because I thought that would allow for _some_ distance between us, and because I was ready to. I wanted to spend more time with Jack, so I wanted a nine to five. I _left_—cut you off—because I panicked. I had no idea what I was doing, or how much it would affect you. I underestimated how much of an impact it would have on you. I'm more sorry than I can say, Emily."

Emily's lips rolled inward and she nodded slowly. "I know you're sorry."

"Can I be honest about one more thing?" Hotch asked. Emily nodded again. "I know you've said before that you forgave me for walking out, but I don't think you really have. And I'm not mad about that. I can't blame you. If I were you I would still be angry at me. Are you?"

"I'm not angry," Emily said with a sigh. "I can understand why you did it. And while you didn't handle things in the best way, your intentions were somewhat noble, and it was a long time ago. And maybe it's just me, but…the last couple of days have felt almost like what we used to have."

"It's not just you," Hotch said.

Emily gave a half-hearted smile. "I don't think we can do this family thing effectively if you feel like your mistakes are being held over your head. I don't want you to feel that way. I know that you're sorry, and if I were in your shoes I would have been fed up with me a long time ago. I've given you too hard a time."

"Emily, you do realize it hasn't even been a full week since we started talking again, don't you?"

Emily furrowed her brow. "Wow. It seems like a lot longer."

"It does. But trust me, you haven't given me too hard a time. I've deserved every bit of it."

"Then why are you pushing for my forgiveness?" Emily joked.

"Because I'm selfish."

"I was kidding. You're right. I haven't been fair. I want to be now. I honestly do forgive you. Let's forget it happened."

Hotch smiled. "Thank you. I want you to be able to trust me. I know I made a hard thing even harder for you when I left. I know you had trust issues already. I—"

"Stop. I don't want to talk about that," Emily said. "And not in a not-being-honest-with-you kind of way. You already know all of this. There's no reason to rehash it. Let's just…move on. No more apologizing, let's just…forget where we've been and figure out where we're going."

Hotch set his beer down on the coffee table and cracked his knuckles while he thought. "Yes. Let's figure out where we're going."

Emily swallowed and twirled her beer bottle in her hands, inspecting the threading around the neck.

"Easier said than done, isn't it?" Hotch asked.

Emily laughed under her breath and glanced at Hotch, who was staring straight at her. "Yeah."

They both remained silent until a knock sounded at the door a few seconds later. "We expecting someone?" Hotch asked.

"Not that I know of." Emily got up to answer the door and Hotch felt the inexplicable need to follow her. An unfamiliar silhouette stood outside the door.

"Social worker," Emily muttered gravely.

"You think so?" Hotch asked before opening the door.

"Mr. Hotchner?" said a petite, forty-something bespectacled brunette in a business suit and carrying a briefcase.

"Yes?"

"I'm Karen Green, with Social Services."

"Right, come in, please." Hotch opened the storm door and welcomed their guest inside.

"You're Ms. Prentiss, I take it?" Karen said, holding out a hand to Emily, who smiled.

"That's me. Nice to meet you."

"Likewise…Mr. Hotchner," she said offering her hand to Hotch. "I apologize for coming by unannounced, but as you know, that's the agreement."

"Of course," Emily said. "Come on in. Can I get you something to drink?"

"No, thank you." Karen smiled and followed Hotch into the living room.

"Oh," Hotch said, spotting the beers he and Emily had left behind. "We were—"

"Having a beer," Karen said with some amusement. "It's not a crime."

"Good. Have a seat, please," Hotch said. Karen took the chair, so Hotch and Emily took the couch.

"First of all, I'm sorry my visit is so late. I usually try not to come after seven so I can see the children, but I was running behind on my last case. I assume they're already in bed? I don't hear a peep," Karen said as she took a leather portfolio from her briefcase and opened it up.

"All sound asleep," Hotch confirmed.

An impressed look crossed the social worker's face. "Three children—as I understand it—all in bed by eight? I can't even do that with my only daughter. The third child is yours, correct?" she asked Hotch.

"Yes."

"Five year old named…Jack?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"How is he getting along with Henry and Charlotte?"

"Pretty well. He and Henry are sharing a room and they've been playing together. Jack hasn't shown much interest in Charlotte, but I didn't really expect him to. And it's better than him acting out in jealousy."

Karen nodded vaguely and directed her attention toward Emily. "Anything you'd like to add to that?"

"I think he covered everything," Emily said.

"All right. Both Henry and Charlotte are healthy? Sleeping well?" Hotch and Emily both nodded. "Has Henry been asking questions?"

"Not really," Emily piped in. "He's always been a pretty quiet, easy-going kid. He seems to be taking it in stride."

"Very well. As I understand it, this is your home, Mr. Hotchner?"

"Aaron, please. Yes, it is."

"So you've moved in, Ms. Prentiss?"

"Yes, ma'am. I just finished unpacking today."

"Then for now I only have a couple more questions. And in an uncommon situation like this, they're uncomfortable in nature, so forgive me. What type of relationship do you have with one another?"

Hotch and Emily reflexively turned their heads toward each other, but quickly glanced back at Karen. "We're friends," Emily said before Hotch could even formulate a thought.

"And you were friends before this?"

"Yes," Emily answered.

"Do you foresee this friendship becoming something more?"

"I'm sorry," Emily said. "With all due respect, why does that matter?"

"Because the children are recently orphaned. They're already adjusting to a new life. Dating brings a level of unpredictability to the table that could complicate things further for the children if the relationship were to end."

"Well, we don't plan on having that kind of a relationship," Emily said matter-of-factly. Hotch's heart dropped to his knees at hearing her say this. Even if she was just trying to get the social worker off their backs, it hurt to know that she could say something like that with such ease.

"Good. One more thing. Could I get a tour of the house and chat a little more with you?"

"Of course. Follow me," Hotch said, rising.

—

"Was that the scariest moment of _your_ life, too?" Emily said after a deep sigh once they had seen the social worker out of the house.

"It's up there," Hotch said gravely.

"The whole time, I was trying to figure out what she was thinking, worried that she was going to snatch the kids up and leave," she said as she walked back into the living room and reclaimed her seat. "Oh my God," she groaned, stretching out and grabbing her beer. "I might need another one of these in a few."

"No kidding." Only one thing was on Hotch's mind, and he eyed Emily furtively as she stared off across the room; he wondered if the same question was plaguing her.

"I'm sorry for answering for both of us," she said after a minute.

"About what? The friends thing?" Hotch asked, trying to act oblivious.

Emily bought his act. "Yeah," she said, looking at him again. "But I knew that if I said we were considering a relationship, that would flag us. I couldn't risk that."

"Of course." The rock that had slowly formed in Hotch's stomach became a little lighter. Maybe she had just been trying to appease Karen. "Do we want to start where we left off, then?"

"Yeah, I guess."

After another awkward silence, Hotch realized Emily wasn't going to start, so he did. "So…where are we going with this? Are we calling it friends-only, permanently, or leaving things…subject to change?"

The fact that Hotch was even offering up the second option sent Emily's mind reeling, but once she came back to Earth and thought clearly, she knew she couldn't let her emotions decide for her. "I think we need to be more clear than we have been." She eyed Hotch apologetically before continuing. "First and foremost, this is about the kids. Karen was right. If we had already been involved when we got the kids, then it would be different. But to start a relationship would run the risk of the kids losing one of us in the end if we were to split." Emily felt hot tears stinging behind her eyes. Was she really speaking so easily about this? Had they both come to an agreement that they wanted to be together, and was she stomping down that idea? "And to be honest, I'm still a little scared of what might happen to us if we took that step. What we have right now is good. Right?" She was glad to be done speaking so she could focus her energy on refraining from betraying her emotions any further.

Hotch's lips were stretched into a thin line, and he looked at his feet while he nodded. "Yeah. What we have right now is good." He'd done what he could. Emily certainly had to know by now that he still had feelings for her. He'd just confessed to having them before he'd left, and he'd verbalized the potential for them to have a relationship in the future. He'd been honest. He hadn't thrown that ever-important word in the mix like he had a couple of months ago when talking to JJ, but that wasn't necessary, he convinced himself. He didn't need to explain himself further, to quantify how much he cared for her. She knew he was interested. And she had turned him down. But for reasons completely understandable, he had to remind himself. She was completely right—this was about the children, not them.

"Hooray for eternal singlehood," Emily hummed into the neck of her bottle.

Hotch tipped his own bottle to Emily, raised his eyebrows in feigned amusement, and drank. "I know it's early, but I think I'm going to turn in," Hotch said. "Want another beer while I'm up?"

"Eh, I'm not much into drinking alone," Emily said, following him into the kitchen. "Are we okay?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked as he turned on the tap to rinse their empties.

"I mean, did we cover everything? Are there any gray areas left?"

"Everything seems pretty clear to me. Goodnight." He grinned with little spirit and exited the kitchen. Emily just hugged her stomach and leaned against the counter. She'd fully expected to walk away from this conversation with peace of mind, but she had gotten anything but. Thinking back on how awfully she'd handled Hotch's absence over the last several months, about how immature and inflexible she'd been, she realized how long it had been since she'd made adult decisions. Letting the man she loved walk away, possibly thinking she didn't want him, was the right thing to do for the kids, she knew. But the selfish, childish part of her cried out in hunger. She eventually slid down to the floor and buried her face in her hands, waiting for the onslaught of tears. But it never came. Twenty minutes later, she gave up on the day and headed to bed. Hotch's door was half-open and she could see a soft lamplight casting a shadow. She knew she could go to bed now, sleep on things, and wake up knowing she'd made the right decision. But how much sleep would she actually get? She continued past her room and to Hotch's, knocking on the door.

"Yeah," he said. Emily stepped inside and saw Hotch under the covers, a book in front of him. He took off his reading glasses, holding his place in his book with his thumb. "Hey. You okay?" Emily realized that although she hadn't cried, she looked far from at ease.

"Yeah." Emily leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, not sure if she should say anything, but really wanting to. "Aaron, I just want you to know that if things were different…" She paused and looked in on Charlotte, sleeping a couple of feet away, it being Hotch's turn that night. "If we could be selfish…I would…"

"I know," Hotch said quietly. "Me too." He got a few seconds' eye contact with the object of his affections before she smiled longingly at him and said goodnight again.

**A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think, even if you're angry ;) Thanks for reading!**


	26. Thank You

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

"If you want to hold her, you have to sit down on the couch," Hotch told Jack. It was their first Saturday after a full week of work, school, and daycare. Jack sat obediently on the couch and held his arms straight out. "Make sure you hold her head up." Hotch placed Charlotte with great care into Jack's arms. "There we go. Good job."

"What time is it?" Emily asked, ambling down the stairs and running her fingers through her messy hair. She'd decided she wasn't doing anything with it until she absolutely had to. Trying to look presentable whenever Hotch was around was already becoming a futile effort, so little by little she found herself giving up. Her eyes were still squinty from sleeping.

"Good morning to you, too," Hotch said teasingly.

"Sorry. Good morning. Seriously, it feels like it's ten or eleven."

"Good guess," Hotch said after checking his watch. "Ten-thirty."

Emily's eyes grew wide. "What? Why didn't my alarm go off on my phone? I didn't see it on my dresser, come to think of it."

Hotch reached into his jeans pocket and handed it over to Emily, who gave him a crooked look. "I took it so you could sleep in."

"No, no, no, you can't do that." Emily snatched the phone from Hotch's hand and plopped into the recliner. Henry, who had been playing with an irritatingly loud toy with buttons and lights, walked over to Emily and signaled that he wanted to sit in her lap. She picked him up. "I can't be sleeping in."

"You had a long week," Hotch said simply.

"And so did you," Emily countered, stroking Henry's hair when he nuzzled up against her.

"Well…" Hotch clearly hadn't thought of a good argument yet. "I only got two additional kids. You got three."

"But you had Charlotte last night. You must be exhausted."

"She only woke up twice," Hotch reported. "And both times I fell back asleep just fine. So don't worry about it."

Emily rolled her eyes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Did you sleep all right?"

"Like a rock. And I don't think I've ever looked forward to a weekend as much as I did to this one. Kids present a whole new level of exhaustion."

"That they do."

"Daddy, she's smiling," Jack yelled.

"Shh, no need to yell," Hotch said with a laugh. He looked down on the baby. "I guess she is. But it's probably just gas."

"Don't be a Debbie Downer," Emily chided. "She's cute, isn't she Jack?"

"I guess. Daddy, I'm done now."

"All _right_ then. Guess I know who not to ask to babysit," Hotch said, smiling. "We had pancakes for breakfast. There are some waiting in the oven for you. I had eggs, too. I can cook you up some if you want."

Emily gave Hotch a wary look. "Why are you kissing my butt?"

"I can't be nice?"

Emily shot him a lopsided smile and headed into the kitchen with Henry on her hip. She came back a few moments later with two dry pancakes in her hand.

"I didn't move the plates, you know. Same cabinet," Hotch said, cocking a eyebrow. "And there's syrup in the fridge."

"I know. But dishes and silverware and syrup sounded a lot like work." She sat back down and tore off a piece of a pancake for Henry. "Thank you."

"Don't mention it," Hotch said, laying the baby against his chest. "So, I talked to Morgan and Garcia and they're willing to help out with the kids while we work on the nursery, or to help work on the nursery while whoever has the kids. Your choice. Take the kids for the day, or manual labor?"

"I'm pretty sure those two things are not mutually exclusive. But I think I'll take the kids. Maybe Garcia and I can take them out somewhere even if it's just to get some lunch. I've felt cooped up all week after work."

"Tell me about it."

"Well are you sure _you_ don't want to take them out instead? I could handle moving stuff with Morgan or Garcia."

Hotch shook his head and waved Emily off. "I'm fine. You sure you don't want some eggs?"

Emily grinned and shook her head. "I'm good, seriously, but thank you," she said, taking a large bite out of a pancake. "Somebody smells like a dumpster," she cooed to Henry with a giant smile. "Did you go poo-poo for Auntie Emily?"

"Again with the 'poo-poo,'" Hotch murmured.

Jack, apparently fed up with the other children getting the attention, walked up to Emily holding his hand out.

"What, sweetie?" she asked.

"Give me a pancake."

"_Jack_. That is not how we ask for things. Besides, you just ate your breakfast. That's Emily's breakfast."

Jack pouted and looked to Emily, obviously for a different answer. "Don't try that on me, honey. I heard your dad say no. Sorry."

—

"Oh, how I wish he was ready for potty-training," Emily said to Garcia after coming back to their table with a freshly changed two-year-old. They were at a local café a mile away from Hotch's house with a convenient attached indoor playscape, to which Henry ran as soon as he was released. Emily had the feeling this would become a favorite place.

"Are _you_ ready for potty-training?" Garcia asked with a grin.

"Good point. No way."

Garcia laughed. "How have the kids been doing? I'm sorry I didn't call all week. This first case back was crazy. I slept in my office the last night." She held a sleeping Charlotte in her arms and looked fondly down onto her.

"It's okay," Emily said. "We've got things under control. Jack and Hotch already having a schedule has helped a lot. Henry's fallen into the same routine. The baby still sets her own schedule but that's fine for now. Any word on new hires?"

"Still unclear. Mocha Baby's trying to fight off the Dragon Lady. He insists she can't make the choice for him, but I think really he's thinking the same thing as her—that we can't only have three field agents and we need to look for new ones—but he wants it to be his idea, not hers."

Emily laughed quietly. "Sounds like Morgan."

"Totally does. So, you talked to Hotch Monday night? Again, I wanted to call—"

"Garcia, it's fine. You can't drop everything for me. I completely understand."

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Well, how did it go?"

"Well, the social worker came right in the middle of it."

Garcia looked terrified. "Unannounced?"

"That was the deal. Temporary guardianship until the social worker makes two surprise visits and deems us fit to be parents."

"How did it go?"

"Well enough. The kids were already in bed, but I think she was more concerned about the adults, to be honest."

"Wanted to know if any hanky panky was going on, huh?"

Emily smiled. "Something like that. And that, if there _was_ hanky panky going on, it was between two already-committed people. Doesn't matter, though, because neither of those things are the case."

"So is that what you told her? That you're not involved?"

"And don't plan to be," Emily added, her face growing solemn.

"Is that what she wanted to hear?" Garcia asked. Emily nodded. "Is that what Hotch wanted to hear?"

Emily heaved a long sigh. "Honestly…I don't think so. The talk was good—we both got everything out in the open, I think."

"What do you mean by _everything_?" Garcia asked. Her face wasn't wrought with giddiness. Only respectful curiosity.

"He left because he knew I wanted to take the next step, and so did he, but he was scared."

"Emily," Garcia moaned softly. "Did you go the friends route?" Emily could say nothing, so she merely nodded again. "You're breaking my already broken heart."

Emily shrugged and let her eyes water, but didn't let any tears fall. "A relationship would be way too risky. I had to stick to my guns."

"Does he still want to be with you?"

"Yeah. I told him before I went to bed that if things were different, that I would…I don't know, go for it. And he said he would too."

"Ugh. You're killing me, Emily."

"You _know_ it's a bad idea," Emily said firmly.

"But such a _good_ bad idea. Don't you think this is maybe what JJ, God rest her soul, was thinking when she put you two together?"

They shared a sad look at the mention of JJ's name but kept their composure. Having her children around seemed to have built up Emily's resistance, at least. "Probably, but it's not that simple. I think she thought we were destined to be together or something, and I don't really believe in that kind of thing. People make relationships work. It's not effortless. It takes hard work from both parties. A relationship isn't going to last forever because fate, or JJ, put two people together. That can only get you so far. So if he and I got together, not only would we each have three kids to take care of, we'd have a relationship to tend to. And I don't think we—or at least I—can handle that. I'm not confident in my abilities enough to risk it."

"But don't you think that living with him and raising a family with him would be _easier_ in ways, if you were together?"

"In some ways, maybe. But either way it's still too risky. If things don't work out, then one of us will leave or we'll both live together in a really tense environment that won't be good for the kids. What we have now is good. We're headed back toward the good old days—"

"The good old days where you got drunk and almost had sex?" Garcia retorted in a hushed tone.

"Okay, the _other_ good old days."

"When did you guys even have the time to have good old days anyway? Hotch gets divorced, then he almost gets blown to pieces in New York, then you get abducted, then two months after that you get held hostage at that freaky ranch, almost got blown up, then not even a year later you find Hotch butchered up in the hospital, then listen in while Haley was killed, then see him holding—"

"Okay, morbid much?" Emily snapped. "I'm sorry. You're right. We went through a lot of crap. But we were there for each other. Every time. Maybe that's what I'm thinking of when I think of the good old days. Us being there for each other. Having each other's backs. And I feel like we're there again. Maybe that's more important than a romantic relationship."

"At least for now."

**June 2008**

"Just beware, Jack is going to be all over you," Hotch said with a grin at the end of a relatively quiet day at the office. "He hasn't seen you since before L.A. and that was three weeks ago."

"I know. I'm excited to see him." Emily smiled and went back down to her desk to pack up her things.

"See you in a bit," Hotch said secretly as he walked by on his way out.

—

Hotch's prediction proved correct. Hotch had just gotten Jack home from Jessica's when Emily arrived, and Jack would not let go of her from the second she walked in the door. He usually didn't have to go more than two weeks without seeing her. She said and showed nothing of the pain from his tiny elbows jabbing into her side, his arms hanging around her shoulders and neck. The bruising was mostly gone, at least from her face—the bruises had been the only thing that kept her away from Hotch's apartment when Jack was there—but she still had plenty of sore spots. She couldn't bear to indicate to Jack that he wasn't welcome in her arms, though. She truly had missed him.

It was only natural that Jack asked Emily to tuck him in that night. She came back into the living room with a weary smile on her face.

"How are you feeling?" Hotch asked.

"Fine. I'd feel better if you stopped asking me," Emily said with a sarcastic half-grin.

"I can't help it. I worry. It's in my job description."

"It's done and over with," Emily sighed as she plopped down onto the couch.

"Then why did you have another appointment yesterday?" Hotch asked.

Emily looked flabbergasted. "That's supposed to be confidential. I already got cleared to work. Anything beyond that is elective and isn't allowed to be disclosed to you or anyone."

"Garcia saw it in the system," Hotch said. "She told me. And not because she thought I needed to know from a work standpoint. I think she knows we're close."

Emily closed her eyes and lay back into the couch. "How did she even know to look?"

Hotch shrugged. "She's Garcia. I don't try to understand half the things she does. But I'm glad she looked. And don't worry, the record didn't say what the appointment was for. When she told me, she asked if I knew, and I said I already knew about it and she shouldn't worry. I wish you would have told me, though."

"It's not a big deal, I swear," Emily said, giving Hotch a look that pleaded for him to stop paying her so much attention. "I just…it made me feel better to talk about it. You were right."

"Then I'm glad you're going. But if it's not a big deal, then why didn't you tell me?"

Emily gave Hotch a "_Really_?" look. "Because I knew you'd _make_ it a big deal."

"Fair enough," Hotch said lightheartedly. "I just wish you'd trust me enough—"

"That's not fair. You know I trust you. I only told you. That means something."

"All right, all right." Hotch rolled his head against the back of the couch and stared at the television screen. When Emily was over the same nights as Jack, they usually watched reruns of Seinfeld once Jack went to bed, so he flipped the channel. "This one was just on the other night," he complained.

"You know what, I think I might head home," Emily said.

"Are you mad?" Hotch asked, turning his attention toward her.

"No, no, I'm not mad. Just a little tired." She got up from the couch and grabbed their dinner plates.

"I'll get the dishes," Hotch said.

"No, it's fine," Emily said, heading into the kitchen, Hotch close behind her.

"When you do my dishes it makes me feel like you're my mom visiting my college dorm," Hotch said in amusement.

"Wow, thanks," Emily said dryly as she rinsed off their dinner dishes and loaded up the dishwasher.

"I meant that in a nice way."

"I know." Warmth flooded her body when Hotch stepped up right behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She felt his chin on her shoulder, his breath on her neck right before he kissed her there. She shook him violently away.

"What's wrong?" Hotch asked from a few feet away.

"Huh?"

"You just twitched like…I don't know. Like you were trying to get someone off of you."

Emily realized her brief hallucination for what it was and continued loading the dishwasher. "I'm okay. Just had a crick in my back is all."

"Okay…" Hotch said, clearly not convinced. "Please leave those. I can't watch you load my dishwasher. It doesn't feel right."

"I do it every time I'm over," Emily said, not missing a beat.

"I know, and I absolutely hate it."

"Then let me chip in for dinner."

"If that's what it will take for you to stop doing my dishes, then fine."

"Just let me finish these."

"Emily," Hotch said sternly. "Put the plate down."

Emily rolled her eyes and obeyed. "I'm still leaving."

"I know, and you should if you're tired." He followed her to the door and watched her step into her shoes. "You going to be okay?"

Emily nodded and stood at the door, not sure what she was waiting for.

"Can I hug you yet?" Hotch asked.

"You haven't asked since I told you you couldn't," Emily noted.

"I didn't want to pressure you."

Emily tucked her lips in and nodded. "We can try."

"Sorry, you just look like you need a hug."

Emily smiled. "If only everyone at work knew you were such a softy." She stepped into Hotch's open arms, her shoulders and back tense as she tentatively put her arms halfway around him.

"You okay?" Hotch asked when his hands barely touched Emily's back.

"I think so."

"Good." His hands placed a bit more pressure on her back and he rubbed circles against it. He felt her body quiver when he did this. "Not okay?"

"Not okay," Emily confirmed, stepping away. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. There's nothing you can do about it. It's going to take time."

Emily nodded and reached for the doorknob and took out her car keys. "See you Monday."

"See you Monday," Hotch said quietly.

"And thank you," Emily said suddenly, turning from the door to face Hotch again.

"For what?"

Emily played with her keys, seemingly counting them, then looked up at Hotch. Her eyes watering with gratitude, she said, "For everything."

**A/N: Please leave a review either way; I love to hear what you all think of the story! :)  
**


	27. Spaghetti and Cigarettes

**A/N: Thank you for all the reviews last chapter. Wow! I hope you enjoy the next one just as much. Any timeline/continuity errors or implausibilities in Hotch's and Emily's careers you can blame on the writers of the show ;)**

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily finished setting the table for dinner and met Hotch in the kitchen. "You sure we're ready for spaghetti?" she asked him.

"Well, we'll find out," Hotch said. "That's why I don't have carpet in my dining room. And it's also why they invented washcloths and bathtubs."

"Oh, I'm sure that's why," Emily said with amusement. Hotch flashed her a grin on his way into the dining room with a pot full of the messiest food he could possibly give the kids.

"Besides, Jack does all right with spaghetti. I think it's just Henry we'll have to keep an eye on."

"Well, at least Henry's eating. I guess I don't care what he eats or how much of a mess he makes as long as he's eating. We're lucky we haven't had any problems."

"Don't jinx it," Hotch warned.

"Well…"

"Well, what?"

"When I picked them up today, one of the daycare staff said that Henry wouldn't eat at all today. But I don't think it's a big deal…I think he just might not be feeling well. That's pretty normal, right? For a two-year-old to just refuse to eat? Just once?"

"Oh, yeah," Hotch said. "I wouldn't worry about it.

"I'd just like to maintain the belief that I'm doing an adequate job, I guess," Emily said.

Hotch sensed the dampening of Emily's previously chipper mood and caught her eye for a moment while he dished up food. "I really wouldn't worry about it. He probably just didn't like what they were having or, like you said, he's not feeling well. It's completely normal."

"Yeah?" Emily asked, wringing her hands.

"It's normal. I promise. Stop trying to convince yourself otherwise."

—

"Come on, honey, just one bite." Henry normally fed himself, but once Emily realized that wasn't going to happen, she tried to help him out. But he shielded his face with his hands and turned away. "Don't you like spaghetti? I saw your mommy make it for you before," Emily said softly, casting Hotch a worried glance. He didn't look entirely confident anymore either. "Do you feel okay? Does your tummy hurt?"

Henry shook his head and pouted, but didn't cry. Emily rested the back of her hand on his forehead. "He doesn't feel too warm," she said to Hotch, who got up and felt for himself.

"Feels fine," he agreed. "Here, let me try." He took Henry to his own seat and put him in his lap. "Look, spaghetti," he said in as high-pitched of a voice as he could get away with without giving Emily enough reason to make fun of him. She still found it difficult to take his soft side seriously when he was dealing with Jack. Henry was even more challenging in that respect, as his age meant that he required a bit more babying. "You don't want spaghetti? Look at Jack, _he_ likes spaghetti. Don't you, buddy? Show Henry."

Jack smiled and nodded at the attention and took a big bite.

"Don't you want to try some?" Hotch asked Henry, but the boy continued to shake his head.

"What about something else?" Emily asked Hotch.

"I don't know," Hotch said warily. "Once you start making different meals for them, they'll never eat anything you put in front of them. Jack went through a phase like that. At least that's how Haley put it. Thankfully she was able to get him out of it but it took a lot of trying."

"All right…but how long do we wait until we cave? He can't just…_not eat_."

"He'll eat when he's hungry," Hotch said with a shrug. "He really just might not be hungry. He didn't eat any bread, either, and he loves bread."

"Do you think it's an adjustment thing?" Emily asked. "It's only been two weeks. Maybe it's some sort of cry for help or something." She was genuinely frightened.

"How about this—if he doesn't eat dinner, we'll try it again in a couple of hours with something different. If he eats then, then we don't give in anymore, because that means he's just being stubborn. If he doesn't eat then, then we'll wait and see if he eats breakfast tomorrow. If not, I'll take the morning off and take him to the pediatrician. Deal?"

Emily ran a hand through her hair and nodded. "Sounds like a plan," she said a moment before harsh baby screams issued from upstairs. "That's me."

—

"There you are," Hotch said, stepping out onto the front porch, into the chilly night air. Emily sat in a chair, crouched over her knees.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know you were looking for me. What's up?"

"Is that a cigarette?" Hotch asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"What?"

Hotch pointed to Emily's hidden arm. "I can see the smoke."

Emily sighed and leaned her head against the wall. "It's not a habit, I swear. If I have a really stressful day, sometimes I indulge. Twice a year, tops. I never got hooked."

"Lucky you," Hotch said, taking the other chair a couple feet away and staring out into the empty street. It was just warm enough not to need a jacket over his sweatshirt. "You have nothing to be stressed about. I'm sure it's nothing. And like I said, if he doesn't eat in the morning, I'll take him in to get checked out."

Emily nodded faintly. "I guess I was a bit naïve. I thought since the first couple of weeks went well, that maybe this wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe I was actually doing a good job, you know?" She wasn't fishing for compliments, but realized it sounded like she was. Before she could do anything to fix that, Hotch jumped in.

"You _are_ doing a good job. You're doing a fantastic job. Don't let one hiccup get you down. If you do, then I hate to break it to you, but you'll never make it through."

"I guess you're right…" She stifled a yawn. "Everyone finally asleep?"

"Yeah, all set."

"Good." Feeling that Hotch not reprimanding her for smoking meant that she had his unspoken permission, she took a long drag from her cigarette and closed her eyes, resting her elbows on her knees again.

They both sat there in silence long enough for Emily to start another cigarette. "Chain smoker?" Hotch asked with a grin.

"I'll smoke in one sitting, then after that, the rest of them get tossed. Might as well get my money's worth."

"You know I'm not judging, right?" Hotch asked cautiously. "I don't have a problem with it. You're not doing it around the kids so I really don't—"

"Do you want one?" Emily asked, turning her head.

"Me? No. No, thanks."

"Thought so." Emily smiled and took another puff.

"Thought what?"

"You're judging," Emily joked.

"Because I won't have one, too? That means I'm judging?"

Emily laughed as she exhaled a cloud of smoke. "I was joking. I know you're not judging. Seriously, though, I won't tell anyone."

"I quit twenty years ago. Smoked just long enough to get me through my bar exam, then I quit."

"How'd you quit?"

"Haley."

"Oh. You guys were together when you were in law school?" Emily said, starting to feel uncomfortable.

"No, but I wanted us to be. We hadn't been together since high school and I wanted to get back together. But I knew she hated smoking."

"I didn't know you guys went that far back. I mean, I knew you met her in high school, but I didn't realize you got together that long ago."

"We were on again, off again for a long time."

Emily wasn't enjoying this conversation at all, and she scolded herself for that. She'd chosen to keep things platonic, and she wished she could act like that was what she really wanted. She tried. "When did you guys actually get married, then?"

Hotch sighed in thought. "Not until ninety-nine, so…last fall would have been eleven years."

"Wow. I'm sorry," Emily said with true sympathy behind her voice.

"It's okay. The relationship was gone long before she was."

"I guess so. But still."

Emily's discomfort must have shown through in her voice, because Hotch said, "I'm sorry, I wouldn't even talk about Haley before she died. I don't know why I thought now would be an appropriate time to bring her up in conversation. I don't know where that came from." _Especially given the conversation we had two weeks ago_, he thought. Knowing that Emily felt the same way he did made him mentally kick himself quite hard. Maybe she was mature enough to be all right with talking about Haley, but Hotch didn't think he would be, were he in her shoes. If it weren't for Haley, he and Emily might be together now, he couldn't help but think.

"I asked why you quit smoking. All you did was answer," Emily said as offhandedly as she could. "Was it hard to quit?"

"Not hard enough to learn my lesson." Hotch held his hand out. Emily gave him a dubious look. "Hand it over," he said.

"And when you get hooked again, what am I supposed to do?"

"Don't let me," Hotch said monotonously, taking the half-finished cigarette that Emily finally proffered.

"Great, no pressure. Just keep the type A personality forty-something with a high stress life from picking up smoking. No problem," Emily said to the soffit.

"This takes me back," Hotch moaned after his first drag. "'Ninety-one was my last one. What was the music even like then?"

"Don't look at me, I wouldn't remember. I was only ten," Emily quipped.

"Right, right. I forgot how quickly you climbed to one of the most elite teams in the FBI. Got out of high school in, oh, ninety-eight and working with me by, what, end of oh-six?"

"Somewhere around there. What can I say? I'm just super ambitious." Emily said with a twisted smirk, reaching over to get her cigarette back. "Hey, wait a minute. What makes me being thirty so hard to believe? Reid was like _fifteen_ when he started."

"You can't pick on him when he's not around to defend himself," Hotch said.

"So just because I'm sitting right here means you can pick on me?"

"I'm sorry. If I didn't know your career timeline, then yes, you could pass for thirty."

"That's more like it. Give me my cigarette back now. You shouldn't even be smoking."

"You let me." Hotch laughed and finished off the cigarette, then leaned down to put it out underneath his chair. "Coming back inside?"

"Yeah. I'm flushing the rest, just so you know," she said, brandishing the pack of Marlboros in front of his face. "No more."

A slight smile crossed Hotch's face. "You in a better mood now?"

Emily rubbed her arms briskly once she realized how warm it was inside the house. "Oddly, yes."

"Why _oddly_?"

"I didn't think I'd let myself be talked out of a panic that quickly."

"Well then…" Hotch said, stepping out of his shoes alongside Emily, "Am I hired?"

Emily laughed under her breath as she turned to make her way past Hotch, but he was blocking her path. Not intentionally, but he was. "Yeah," she said quietly, having nowhere to look but at him. "Thank you." She slipped her arms around his neck and rested cheek-to-cheek with him, chills coursing through her body when he did something as simple as hug her back. Maybe because it wasn't the kind of hug you gave a friend in need. His hand slid gently up and down her back twice, then rested near her waist. When she pulled her face back, neither one of them released their hold. It was so quiet she could hear his soft breathing when, after one cursory glance, they both shut their eyes and closed in.

**A/N: ****Please leave a review!  
**


	28. Harsh Reality

Emily cast a furtive glance out the door of her tiny office before answering Hotch's call. "Hey," she said quietly, tucking her phone between her neck and shoulder while she tapped away at her keyboard. "How'd it go? Is Henry okay?" She'd been feeling sick to her stomach all day, ever since Henry had woken up with a low-grade fever and refused to eat breakfast. This, compounded with her Hotch-induced nearly sleepless night, meant that she'd consumed more cups of coffee than she could count today and still felt like she'd been hit by a bus.

"He'll be fine. I just put him back to bed. He's got a stomach bug that's been going around. The doctor prescribed him some antibiotics and said he just needs to stay home and rest, and that if it's what the rest of the kids have been coming in with, he might start throwing up eventually. So I took him home and took the rest of the day off. I left Charlotte at daycare just in case things got messy here. I figured the less contact she has with Henry right now, the better."

Emily waited until Hotch was done talking to breathe a shaky sigh of relief. "He's okay, though?"

"He'll be okay," Hotch said. "Don't worry."

"How can I not worry? He's two. He can't talk well enough to tell us what's wrong. We're supposed to be able to tell—"

"This is why there are pediatricians. We didn't do anything wrong. You need to calm down."

"I think it's a little easier for you to be calm because you're right there with him. I'm not. I can't see him, I can't talk to him."

"But I can. And I'm telling you he's fine. He's just got a stomach bug, that's it. All kids get sick. But he does need to stay home for at least another day. Do you think you can take tomorrow off? It'll be Friday anyway, so then we'll have the rest of the weekend."

"I'll try," Emily said, no longer bothering with the guise of working. She sat back in her chair and pressed the heel of her hand firmly against her forehead to assuage a sudden shooting pain. "I mean, I will. We don't have a choice, do we?"

"Well, if you think they're going to give you a hard time about taking a day off, I'll see if I can take tomorrow off, too," Hotch said. "My director knows what's going on at home and he's been surprisingly understanding given that he's basically a male version of Strauss at her worst."

"Yeah…" Emily said absentmindedly.

Hotch then asked the question Emily hoped he wouldn't. "Your superiors know what's going on at home, right?" Emily rolled her eyes and didn't answer. "You haven't told anyone," Hotch realized.

"It's a little harder when you're a woman. You have to understand that. Once people know you have kids, they make assumptions. They assume you're not going to work hard…I don't want to give anyone here a reason to doubt me. Obviously, if I'm going to have to take more time off after the week from hell that was only what, two or three weeks ago?…then I'll have to explain. But that's why I hadn't already. I was hoping I could…I don't know…"

"Get away with it, fake it?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah, something like that."

"Had I known that was your plan, I would have told you not to bother," Hotch said lightheartedly.

"It was a stupid plan, I know. I don't know how I fooled myself into thinking otherwise." Emily realized this was the most they'd spoken to one another since last night, and upon that revelation, she immediately grew tense and withdrawn from him. She knew another talk was in order, but it was the last thing on earth she wanted to bring up. However, she couldn't think of a distracter topic in time.

"Listen…about last night," Hotch started when Emily left him room.

"I can't talk about that now. I need to work."

"Then…tonight. Once the kids are in bed."

"Please. We do a _really_ awful job clarifying things while he kids are in bed," Emily said dryly.

"Fine, then over dinner. The kids can be a buffer."

"I'm not going to talk about it in front of the kids." She knew full well how ridiculous she sounded.

"We could sit them by the window and have them watch while we talk outside. Would that help?" Hotch quipped.

"You're being an ass," Emily said with an unsure laugh.

"Maybe so, but you're being difficult," he shot back.

"I know, I know. I'm not trying to be, I swear. I just…I want to do the right thing and I want to be happy at the same time and the more I think about it, the more scared I get that those two things aren't going to happen together and—"

"Whoa, hang on, this is what we need to talk about later. You're right, you shouldn't be talking about it on work time, especially if you're going to be asking for a day off. I'll let you go. Call me when you're on your way out and we can figure out how we'll do the daycare shuffle tonight. I have all their seats."

"Okay. Sounds good. By the way, we're going to the store this weekend to get extra seats. That way no shuffling has to be involved. This is getting old fast."

"We'll talk about it later."

Emily sighed. "Yeah. All right, I'll see you tonight."

"Take it easy."

—

It was only Emily, Hotch, and Jack at the dinner table that night. Henry was fast asleep in Emily's bed after throwing up all over his, and most of the rest of his hodgepodge family was trying to enjoy an equally heterogeneous mix of chicken and vegetables Hotch had thrown together while Emily had stuffed the washer with Henry's bedding.

"How was the rest of your day?" Hotch asked Emily casually from across the table.

"Interesting," Emily said.

"How so?" Hotch asked, stopping his forkful of chicken midway between his plate and mouth.

"Later," Emily said with a quick glance at Jack, who was using his fork to mash cooked carrots, the last bit of food on his plate, instead eating them. Hotch didn't seem to have the energy to fight it, and Emily, though she'd been given equal authority with Hotch over Jack, didn't feel comfortable giving orders to Jack in front of his father.

"Jack, what did you do at school today?" Hotch asked.

"ABCs and show and tell."

"You had show and tell today? You didn't tell me. What'd you bring?" Hotch put down his fork and gave his son his full attention. Emily could see the guilt written plainly on his face.

Jack hopped down from his chair and ran to get his backpack. He showed up pulling out one of his dad's red patterned neck ties. "I told them my daddy always wears one to work."

"Oh, did you?" Hotch asked warmly as Jack climbed into his lap.

"Can you put it on, Daddy?" Emily couldn't help but smile at the interaction. She almost felt as if she were intruding.

"Well, I'm wearing a sweatshirt right now. Ties don't really go with sweatshirts. Do you want to wear it?" Hotch offered.

"I'm wearing a sweatshirt too, Daddy," Jack said, scrunching his nose.

"Well, we can make an exception."

"What does that mean?"

"It means we can break the rules just one time."

"Okay."

"Are you all done?" Emily asked Hotch, eyeing his almost empty plate. As adorable as the scene before her was, she felt like Hotch could really use some quality time with Jack, so she wanted to afford him the opportunity by making herself scarce.

"Yeah, but I can get it later," Hotch said, slipping his tie around Jack's neck.

"You cooked. I can clean up," Emily said. "Spend some time with him. I'll hold down the rest of the fort."

"Thank you," Hotch said, watching Emily while she cleared the table.

She smiled with genuine friendliness, surprising herself. "No problem."

Hotch turned his attention back to Jack, who seemed eager to get it.

"Why do you wear ties, Daddy?"

Hotch shrugged. "They're just something a man wears when he needs to look nice."

"Can I wear mine to school tomorrow?"

"You want to wear your suit and tie to school?" Hotch asked with a smirk and a crooked eyebrow.

"Not my suit. Just my tie."

"Well, you can't really walk around with just a tie and not at least a dress shirt. Tell you what…I don't think your suit fits you anymore anyway, because you have gotten _so big_. But this weekend maybe we'll go get you a new suit and shirt, and shoes, too, and then next time we go out somewhere, you can wear it."

"Just like you?"

"Just like me," Hotch said, finishing up the knot. "Well, let's see." He lifted Jack out of his lap and put him down. The tie went all the way to Jack's knees. Hotch chuckled.

"Do I look like you?"

"You bet. What do you have from school to work on tonight? Gotta practice any letters?"

Jack nodded and dug through his backpack. "The letter E."

"Oh yeah? Let's see." Hotch moved their placemats out of the way and let Jack lay out a couple pieces of paper and a pencil. "All right, you got your tracing done already. Good job. The next part says 'What words start with the letter E?'"

Jack looked up at his dad and shrugged. "I dunno."

—

Emily sat on the couch with Charlotte lying between her knees, looking up at her. She had stayed awake after a feeding for once, so Emily took the chance to interact with her. Hotch was putting Jack to bed and checking in on Henry, who had slept through the rest of the evening.

"You have your mommy's baby blues, you know," Emily said, smiling. "I don't think anyone will be mistaking you for my child anytime soon."

"Hey," Hotch said when he got back downstairs. "Did she eat enough?"

Emily nodded, her smile fading a bit at the imminent conversation.

"Do you want to…" Hotch gestured toward the baby in Emily's lap, who was holding fast to Emily's thumb, her eyes roaming the ceiling.

"Do I want to what?"

"Talk in front of the baby." Hotch's face was serious but his voice wobbled enough at the end, hinting at the laugh he was trying to keep down.

Emily rolled her eyes, but in good humor. "Very funny."

"You said you didn't want to talk in front of the kids," Hotch said with a grin and a shrug.

"Well, smartass, I talked to my boss today."

"Was this the interesting part of your day you were referring to?" Hotch asked as he sat in the recliner.

"Yeah. She was, uh, not too pleased that I hadn't disclosed the nature of my emergency a few weeks ago. Well, I told her it was the funeral of a close friend and that I was settling her estate and helping arrange the funeral. But I didn't mention the kids. She didn't seem too pleased—not necessarily that I now have children, but more because I hid it from her. Which, in all reality, isn't really fair, because they're on your insurance so I have no reason to legally have to say anything at work, I don't think. But anyway, I didn't ask for tomorrow off. I didn't see that going over too well."

"Probably wise," Hotch said. "I got the go-ahead for tomorrow if I needed it, so I can stay home."

"Sorry. I really am," Emily said. "I should have told her earlier. I just made things worse. Now I'm going to be under a magnifying glass at work, and you taking two days off in a row isn't going to help at your job."

"Don't worry about it," Hotch said.

"It would be a little easier if—never mind," Emily said, shaking her head.

"Easier if what?"

"No, it's completely inappropriate."

"Just say it."

Emily eyed Hotch tentatively, then said, "It would just be nice if Jessica weren't so opposed to this idea. I know she'll take Jack anytime we need her to, and that's great, but it just bites that we don't have anyone like that for Henry and Charlotte. But like I said, that's inappropriate. Jessica has no obligations toward them. And honestly, if I were her, I'd be _pissed_. Jack's her flesh and blood and because of some kids she doesn't even know, it's no longer in her nephew's best interests to spend all that time with her. Are you sure he can't go over there after school maybe once a week?"

"I'm starting to think about it already. I told him he could see her on weekends. But by the time the weekend rolls around, all I want to do is lie around and rest, not worry about calling her up. I know it sounds lazy and awful, but it's the truth. _However_…"

"However what?"

"That's not what we're here to talk about."

Emily sighed down at the baby, walking her fingers up her soft tummy and touching her nose. "So we can't pretend it didn't happen?"

"I don't think so."

**A/N: Thanks so much for all your reviews so far! Please keep leaving them – let me know what you think! :) Probably more hate mail this time around, I imagine.**


	29. A Kiss and a Secret

**A/N: In case you don't remember and don't feel like rereading Chapter 9, here is a quick overview: In May 2008, the team is on a case, which is later revealed by JJ and Hotch (in separate chapters) to be in Los Angeles. On this case, Emily is about to go into a building unarmed, as bait. JJ also reveals that Emily subsequently goes missing for a day and a half. To risk insulting your intelligence, this is the event that Hotch was referring to when he pressured Emily to tell JJ, to share her burdens with her. It is also the event that caused Emily's relationship/trust issues that have been alluded to. I'll be referring back to that point in time, just so we are on the same page :)**

**March 2011**

**The Night Before**

"What are we doing?" Emily asked right before her and Hotch's lips would have touched.

"We were…going to…" Hotch was uncharacteristically at a loss for words. He slowly let out the breath he'd drawn in.

"We were going to kiss. After we talked about how this kind of thing couldn't happen. Not even two weeks ago. We can't go _two_ _weeks_?" Emily was already halfway to the stairs by the time Hotch realized she'd moved.

"Emily, hang on. We don't have to do this."

"Do what?" she asked, crossing her arms at the bottom of the stairs. "No, you know what, we both know exactly where we stand with this. We just need to stop forgetting. I'm not mad at you, but I don't want to talk about it. I'll see you in the morning."

"It's eight o'clock," Hotch said. "You're going to go to bed at eight just so you can avoid me?"

"Don't think of it as avoiding you," Emily said as she climbed the stairs. "Think of it as us keeping a safe distance."

"That's exactly the same thing as avoiding me." Hotch shoved his hands into his pockets in defeat, waited to see if Emily would turn around, and after realizing she wasn't going to, he plopped down in front of the television.

**Present Day**

"Who's going to talk first?" Hotch asked after a few moments of painful silence.

"I will. It was a bad idea. And I'm glad we didn't go through with it." Emily was looking at the baby while she said this, but then she glanced up at Hotch to gauge his reaction. Whatever that was, he was keeping it well disguised. "Aren't you?"

"I think that we're both on the same page in terms of what kind of relationship we would want to have under more ideal circumstances, right?"

"Well, yeah. I thought we made that pretty clear a couple weeks ago. But I thought we both agreed it was a bad idea because of the kids."

"Well..." Hotch sighed and scratched his head. "You phrased it that way."

"But you said you agreed. You said that you thought what we have right now is good."

"I didn't really have a choice, did I?" Hotch asked helplessly, his sad eyes pleading with Emily to give him that choice now.

Emily didn't know how she had convinced herself that that their talk had gone well. Apparently she'd just bossed him around. They hadn't come to an agreement at all.

"I didn't realize you weren't being honest. I guess I was naïve," Emily said. "I thought that we were supposed to get everything out in the open."

"I'm not trying to point fingers, but I didn't really feel that the conversation was going that way. I felt like my opinion wouldn't change the outcome." Hotch's face was aimed at the floor, but he raised his brow to look up at Emily.

"That doesn't mean your opinion isn't valid. It doesn't mean I don't want to know how you feel." Emily felt herself choking up, so she stopped talking. She didn't understand how things were getting harder instead of easier. They should have been settling into a routine, growing more comfortable with the living situation. Instead they were even more confused than they were two weeks ago when she'd thought they'd had it all down.

"I'm sorry I wasn't honest. Would you like to hear my opinion now?"

Emily sighed and shrugged. "Go for it."

"That's really encouraging," Hotch said coldly, sitting back in his seat and rolling his eyes up at the ceiling.

Emily watched silently as Charlotte drifted off to sleep in her lap. She lifted her gingerly to her chest and stood up. "I'm gonna put the baby to bed. I need a minute."

"Take your time," Hotch said under his breath.

Emily took the minute it took to get the baby down to try and focus her energy on keeping her composure. This couldn't be a teary-eyed conversation. He couldn't know how hard it was for her to stay away from him, to reject him.

Hotch was somewhat surprised that Emily actually came back downstairs.

"I'm sorry I was rude," Emily said, making and maintaining eye contact with Hotch while she took her seat again.

"It's okay. I know it's not a fun conversation and I know you're stressed."

Emily nodded and rubbed her thighs nervously. "Tell me how you really feel."

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked.

"I'm pretty sure I know what it is, but you deserve to say it yourself rather than have me put words in your mouth."

In a surprise move, Hotch got up from the recliner and joined Emily on the couch. He only left a few inches of space between them. It wasn't the most conducive place to sit and hold a conversation with her, but he needed to be near her.

He swallowed. "I think that if we both want to be with each other, and that it's not new feeling for either one of us, then we shouldn't ignore those feelings. They're not there without a reason. And they're not there just because we found ourselves living together. Like I said, we both felt this way before all of this."

"I was afraid of this," Emily muttered.

"Afraid of what? My wanting a relationship with you?"

"Us disagreeing. This would be so much easier if we both agreed that it was a bad idea." Emily squeezed her knees around her hands and turned her neck to stare inquiringly into Hotch's eyes.

"Well, I'm sorry, but I can't help the way I feel. I think the situation as it stands is nice, but I don't think it's going to stay that way if we have pent-up feelings. Forgive me. I don't remember the last time I spoke so frankly about this kind of thing. Is it too much?"

"It's the truth. It needs to be said."

"Do you see my point, then? Do you think we can really go all this time—eighteen years, at the very least—remaining strictly friends, especially given that it would be extremely difficult for either one of us to hold steady relationships with other people?"

Emily had been thinking the same thing and had voiced it the last time they had had a serious conversation—if she didn't start a relationship with Hotch, she'd be single forever—but the words hurt coming from _his_ mouth. "I don't want to start a relationship with you simply because there's no other viable option," she said.

"That's not what I meant," Hotch said. "Well, maybe it is, but I didn't mean for you to take it as an insult. I want to be with you because I care about you, not because we have no other options." Though fully clothed and sitting on a comfortable couch, Hotch felt as if he were naked, standing in front of a crowd of thousands. "Please know that this is not something I take lightly. I would never just say this because it sounds nice. I do want to be with you. And I know I wasn't ready before, and I had a really shitty way of letting you know, but I am ready this time. I think that the reason you're scared to try is the reason I think we _should_ try. Kids learn about relationships through their parents."

"Okay, we can't be a teaching tool," Emily spat.

"I'm just saying that us being together isn't a terrible idea because of the kids. It's a _good_ idea because of the kids. We have the opportunity to make ourselves happy and to create a stable household for them. I think we should, and we should do it _before_ we get settled into the mindset that we're just friends and that if we were to get together, it would jut be on a trial basis. Because then we'd just be assuming we could go back to being friends if things didn't work out. I think that's the kind of attitude that would get us into trouble. I think that this is our only reasonable option. I think that if we call it platonic right now, we'll just be tempted later on anyway. And then what's the point? Why not just define it the way we want it now?" He realized he'd been staring at Emily rather intensely the entire time he'd spoken.

"Because jumping in head first right now does _not_ mean it would be any more successful. I think that the opposite would happen. Too much is already going on."

"Then at least…don't rule it out," Hotch begged shamelessly. "Don't rule us out."

Emily's eyes were rimmed with tears now. Hotch hated that he was the cause of them, but they were apparently inevitable if they were to be honest with each other this time.

"I think that…" Emily stopped to gather herself.

"You think that what?"

"I think…we had our shot," she said, choking up at the last word. "The timing was terrible. You weren't ready, I was, and it wasn't by the fault of either one of us. That's just how it happened. We couldn't change the fact that you were recently divorced, had a son to take care of, and that Haley died. All of those things were obstacles and I think it's just…really unfortunate. And it really does break my heart, and I kind of wish I had the balls to just say 'screw it' and give it a whirl. But it seems like a bad idea to me. And if I go into this feeling like it's a bad idea, like it won't work out and like we're putting the kids at risk, then I won't be putting my whole heart into it. I'll be scared and I won't give it my all. And you don't deserve that." She wanted to hold his hand in some sort of comforting, reassuring way, but she knew that wouldn't help matters.

"You say it _seems_ like it's a bad idea."

"What are you getting at?"

"Are you open to being convinced at all?"

"What do you mean?"

"Let's pick up where we left off last night. Maybe we'll get off easy and it will feel like nothing when we kiss this time and we could be on the same page. But maybe it would put us on a…_different_ same page."

Emily tried her best not to shrink away from Hotch, but at the same time to express her disdain for the idea. She just shook her head.

"Is it…a touching thing?" Hotch asked.

"No," Emily said. "I got over the touching thing a long time ago. "If I still have reservations, they're sexual. Which is another reason a relationship between us is risky. I've wanted you, and…I can't believe I'm even saying this…I've thought about what it would be like for us to truly be together, and I love the idea, but I don't know if I could actually do it. Even if I wanted to."

Hotch shook his head. "That's not a necessary component."

"You make it sound so scientific," Emily said with a sigh.

"How about, 'I'm old and I'm past the point in my life where sex is a motivator.' Come to think of it, I don't think it ever really was. I was obsessed with doing well in school when I was there, and then went straight into a career, and lived for my job, even after I got married. And now I'm living for you four. It's not to say that I don't think about…sleeping with you—I do—but that's not my end goal. And I can go without it if that's the only way I can have you."

"That's really sweet, and I think you mean that now, but I don't think you would feel that way forever. I think you would want to take that step, and I wouldn't be ready in time, or maybe I _never_ would be, and we would stay together with you resenting me for not being able to give you that. Or we would split. I don't see how this could end well."

"Did you feel this way before?" Hotch asked. "Before I left—you say you wanted to be with me then, but did you believe _then_ that I would be able to go without sex?"

"I don't think I knew _what_ I was thinking with respect to that. All I could feel was this _need_ to be with you, and maybe in the back of my head I assumed that since I trusted you so much, that if we got together, I would be ready for you eventually, that I would be able to take that step with you. I sure as hell wasn't thinking about being with anyone else in that way, but I think I figured it would just come about naturally with you."

"And you don't feel that way anymore?"

He had caught her. Her hands flew up in defeat. "I don't know."

"You know what I think?" He waited for her to object if she was going to, but she didn't. "I think you're using that as a scapegoat. That's not to say that it's not an important issue, because it is. I don't take it lightly at all. I do mean it when I say I would be perfectly happy with you if we never made love. But I think that you do still trust me and you're taking advantage of any insecurities you think you _should _have. I think you're fishing for reasons not to try. And I don't think your reason is a valid one. I think you still trust me in that respect. And I think you trust that I won't leave—not for any reason—so I don't understand why it seems like such a bad idea to you. It makes sense. _So much sense_."

"Aaron, we had our chance. It didn't work out." The rawness of the conversation had Emily's heart racing in her chest, her palms sweaty.

"We never had a chance. What kind of chance was it if it never would have gotten off the ground? Like you said, I wasn't ready. How do you even call that a chance? I call it bad timing. I call _this_ a chance."

"Well, I call _this_ bad timing," Emily retorted.

"Can I have just one chance to convince you otherwise? To convince you that this is what we need? If I'm wrong, then I'll stop pushing."

"How will you know if you're right or wrong? How can I trust you won't just claim you're right and keep on pushing?"

Hotch thought for a moment. "If you can look me in the eye and say 'no,' then I'll know I'm wrong. And then I'll stop."

Emily sighed shakily.

"One kiss. That's all."

Emily tried to lick her lips subtly, but there wasn't really any way to do that without being obvious. Hotch's eyes were trained right on her. "Okay. One kiss."

Hotch tried not to sound too pleased as he faced Emily and gently palmed her cheek.

"How exactly do we do this?" Emily asked.

"Not to make light of the situation, but it's not like we don't know how. We've done it before."

Emily rolled her eyes as she licked her lips again. "Yeah, well, we were both plastered. I don't really remember."

"I highly doubt that."

**May 2008**

Emily stood in front of the mirror in the ladies' restroom at the office not long before she planned on leaving. The bruises on her face were a sickly greenish yellow. The concealer she reapplied three times a day around both eyes, on one of her cheeks, and across her nose, did nothing much in the way of making her appear any less gruesome, and the cuts on her lips hadn't healed yet. At least no one else had to see the bruises everywhere else. And she had been careful the entire week, so far, not to look in the mirror before she was dressed. It wasn't really a good way to start a day. The one time she had accidentally seen herself naked since the team had returned from Los Angeles a week ago, she'd felt the urge to vomit, which she'd suppressed, and had then spent an hour curled up in a ball, not moving, at the foot of her bed.

Today had been her first day back after a week of rest mandated officially by Hotch, who really had pushed for two weeks (Emily had negotiated her way down to one). Even the rest of the team expressed their dismay at seeing her back so early. The day had been chock full of unwanted attention, especially from JJ and Garcia, who had nothing but the best intentions, but were actually slowly driving her crazy. Morgan and Rossi brought her coffee at least every hour or two. Unsure of how much more coddling she could take, she was glad the day was coming to an end.

The worst part of all the pitiful stares (especially from Reid, who otherwise remained silent) was that they didn't know the half of it. No one did.

Careful to avoid making eye contact with anyone, she tried to finish her day in peace and quiet. Morgan brought her one last cup of coffee and laid a hand gingerly on her shoulder before walking off. She shrunk away from him reflexively, but he didn't notice. She gave him a fleeting half-smile before he turned toward the stairs. It was then that she caught Hotch staring down into the bullpen from his office. Not sweeping. Looking right at her. She quickly stared back down at her work. She'd been debating it all week. Talking to him. _Really_ talking to him. They'd been understandably awkward around one another since their Night of Poor Decisions almost a month ago, which broke Emily's heart. She'd been over twice between that night on the couch and the L.A. case, the two of them making a joint effort to pretend things didn't have to be different, but they certainly were. Maybe confiding in him could change that, could erase any effects of the mistake they'd made. And she couldn't tell JJ and Garcia. They would take it much worse than anyone else. Certainly none of the other team members needed to know, either. That left Hotch, and maybe her mother. So in all actuality, just Hotch. There was no way she could tell her mother.

"Hey," Hotch said gently when Emily appeared at his office door. "Heading out soon?"

"Yeah," she said. "I was wondering…can I—"

"Come over? Of course. You never need to ask."

Emily walked further into Hotch's office. "Do you have Jack tonight?" Hotch shook his head. "Okay, good. I don't want him to see me like this."

"_I _don't want to see you like this either," Hotch admitted, though regretting the way it came out right after the words left his taut lips. "I just mean that—"

"It's okay. I understand. I purposely avoid mirrors except when I need to cover it up with makeup. Anyway, I'll see you later, then? I can bring dinner over."

"I'll get dinner," Hotch said. "Do me a favor, though."

"Sure."

"Leave the office. You've had a long day back. Do you want my apartment key? You can go make yourself at home. No sense in you driving out to your place to drive all the way out to mine in a couple of hours." Hotch sounded so desperate to mend whatever was broken, that Emily felt even more like he was the person who had to now. Someone had to know—she couldn't bear the burden alone anymore—and if they both wanted to forget what had happened between them, maybe Hotch was exactly the person to tell. And, not being a woman, maybe he would be the least affected by what she had to say.

"That's okay. I think I'll just stay until you're ready to leave. There's always something to keep me busy."

"You should rest."

"I'm fine," Emily insisted.

"All right, fine," Hotch conceded with a disapproving sigh. "I'll try not to stay too long."

"Don't rush."

Hotch gave Emily a look before picking up the phone.

Emily rolled her eyes lightheartedly and walked back downstairs.

—

"I ordered some Chinese on the drive over," Hotch said while he unlocked his apartment door.

"Sounds good." For a brief moment Emily eyed the couch. Maybe a week ago it would have elicited some sort of arousal, maybe just a little bit. It actually had, the couple of times she'd visited between that night and a week ago, but now it just made a knot form in her gut.

"How are you feeling? We haven't talked since I told you I didn't want to see you for a while," Hotch said with a slight grin, remembering Emily storming out of the office on their first day back from L.A., insisting she wasn't actually injured and that he had no right to tell her to go home. But she'd had to listen. Boss's orders.

"Okay…" Emily lied while they both took off their shoes. "I've been bored out of my skull."

"You could've given me a call," Hotch said, hanging his coat up. "I'm always here, except when I'm not." He loosened his tie and was about to ask Emily if she wanted a beer, but thought better of it.

"Yeah, well…we haven't had the best month, have we?"

"No," Hotch agreed. "Want to watch some TV?"

"I've watched so much TV the past week that I should probably say no, but I don't think I can resist mindless entertainment. My head feels like it's going to explode."

"Does it really hurt or do you just mean from the long day?"

"Not literally. Just a long day. First days back after a break always suck." Emily walked into the short hallway and opened the linen closet for a blanket. "Don't hold it against me if I pass out." She wrapped herself up snugly and curled up in a chair in the living room.

"You sure you don't want a Tylenol or something?"

"I'm good, thanks," Emily said, looking up at him. She wondered when to bring up her issue and decided she would really love some food in her stomach, and probably wouldn't be able to eat after she told him everything, so she kept quiet while he surfed channels from the couch.

Hotch thought about dredging things up again, but they'd already ignored the elephant in the room for a month. He didn't see the sense in addressing it again. The fact that Emily couldn't even sit on the couch with him had him debating it, still, but he kept quiet. They would get over it in due time. They had to. He needed her.

"I might honestly fall asleep," Emily mumbled after a few minutes.

"Go ahead and take a catnap. Dinner won't be here for at least another half hour." Hotch considerately turned the volume down on the television.

"You can keep it turned up. It's fine."

"Don't worry about it. Get some sleep."

Emily nodded and turned to her side, lying down as much as she could in her chair. She didn't actually think she'd fall asleep, but wanted an excuse to lie down and not talk until absolutely necessary. But she did drift off eventually and dreamed of why she hated that damned couch so much now. The steamy dream was far better than the nightmares she'd been having, even if she regretted what had transpired between them.

"Emily," Hotch said quietly, right near her, after what felt like only a minute or two of feeling herself close against him, feeling his lips on her own, on her neck, on her breast.

"Mmm," she moaned, not opening her eyes. "What? Is dinner here?"

"Yeah. Do you want me to put yours in the fridge so you can sleep some more?" It took all he had in him to keep his hand from brushing a stray strand of hair from her forehead.

"Mm-mm," she said. "I'm good." She opened her eyes and by the time she sat up, Hotch was already opening takeout containers on the coffee table.

"Fork or chopsticks?"

"Fork," she said, yawning. "I'm way too tired to bother with chopsticks right now. And I'm starving." She couldn't eat at the coffee table without sitting on the couch, so she sucked it up and plopped down next to him, still in her blanket.

"Get a good nap in?"

"Yeah. How long was I out?"

"Thirty, forty minutes."

"Sorry."

Hotch turned to Emily instead of just blindly handing over her rice. "Why? It's only been a week. You should still be exhausted, at least mentally if not physically. If you weren't, I'd be worried."

Emily shrugged and shoveled some rice shamelessly into her mouth.

"Do you want to talk about the case? Because we haven't," Hotch said.

Emily's second forkful of food stopped halfway to her mouth. "I do, actually, but I want to eat first."

"Okay." Hotch was pleased to get that much out of Emily, so he turned the volume back up, but instead of watching the commercial that was currently playing, he looked back at the chair where Emily had napped, where his eyes had been set for the entire time she'd slept.

Not much later, Hotch was stacking up the food containers and bringing them to the trash. Normally, Emily insisted on cleaning up, since Hotch would never let her chip in for her share of the dinner bill if he paid. But she remained stationary, still with her blanket tucked around her.

Hotch turned off the television. "So." He sat down on his end of the couch, facing Emily with one foot tucked underneath him.

"Well, you already know what happened," she said, mirroring Hotch's position.

"I can _see_ what happened. And it makes me sick to my stomach. I shouldn't have let you go in. That was a stupid move. We didn't know enough about the unsubs yet."

"I knew you'd feel guilty. Please don't. Because there's more, and I don't want you to feel guilty about that either."

"More?"

Emily nodded, leaning sideways into the back of the couch, casting Hotch a blank stare while she crossed her legs in front of her. "Maybe I shouldn't tell you." She groaned and shook her head, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"You should."

"Promise me one thing first," she mumbled into her now trembling hand.

"I have a feeling I know what that promise is, and I can't," Hotch said.

"What do you think it is?"

"I think you're going to ask me to promise not to feel guilty. And if there's more to this, then I will absolutely feel guiltier than I already do. But I still want to know."

"You _can't_ feel guilty about this. Please."

"Tell me."

Emily heaved a sigh and closed her eyes. "They didn't just beat the living daylights out of me."

The darkest look crossed Hotch's face, his eyebrows slanting downward, his mouth set into a thin line. A look he saved for only the most cruel of criminals. He wanted to ask Emily what if he was thinking was true, to say it for her so she didn't have to, but he already felt the tears welling up behind his eyes and wanted to hold onto them for as long as he could.

"They…" Emily gulped and her breath was lodged in her throat.

**A/N: Please leave a review if you have time! Hate mail is perfectly acceptable – I already know I'm a terrible person but I don't mind being reminded.**


	30. A Hug

**A/N: Thanks once again for the reviews, everyone! I don't exaggerate when I say how motivating and interesting they are. Here's the next installment. Enjoy!**

**July 2008**

"_HOTCH_!"

Hotch looked up from his phone call, then down into the bullpen to see that Morgan was the one who had screamed his name. He abandoned his call and met Rossi out at the railing, listening to and watching the news with the rest of the team.

Before everyone's phones went off all at once, all that ran through his mind was, _Not again_.

He went into autopilot for the next few hours, shouting out orders with miraculous ease despite his mind being elsewhere. He knew he needed to be in the moment, to focus more, but he couldn't fight off the feeling that Emily would come out of this more damaged than the last time, or that, perhaps, he'd already seen her for the last time. Reid crossed his mind as well, of course, but he couldn't help where his thoughts centered. The worst part was that he knew he probably had no way of knowing his friends' fates until the shootout was over. When the team finally pulled up to Liberty Church Ranch, it still hadn't quite sunken in that Emily was trapped by a group of men with a penchant for violence. The words "weapons investigation" had sent his mind reeling to the most horrifying places, but he thought he did a well enough job of not letting anyone see.

Guns and bodies were two different things with which one could _be_ violent, he had to remind himself. And this was a traditional group who seemed to leave the fighting up to the men. Despite this knowledge, he still found himself panicking inside.

But he knew that his panicking wasn't going to get them anywhere, wasn't going to help Emily or Reid. He did know, though, that he had the lead expert in hostage negotiation right by his side, so it was with the utmost confidence that he passed that responsibility to Rossi. When Rossi argued, Hotch felt as though he might strangle the next person who crossed his path, and the Colorado Attorney General almost became that man. Hotch went from teary-eyed and sickened to furious in a matter of seconds.

—

Hotch felt guilty over his relief at hearing that it wasn't Emily or Reid who had been killed, and he could see it in Morgan's eyes as well. He couldn't help it—he knew Emily and Reid, not the third hostage. If one of them had to be dead, he was glad it wasn't one of his friends.

The fact that Emily was still alive somewhere inside the ranch was all that kept him going. Knowing that not all was lost was what allowed him to hear her get beaten. To hear her tell them she could take it. To keep himself from going in.

He kept his composure as well as he could, but seeing Morgan and Rossi visibly upset gave him some leeway to work with. And as the hours ticked by, he prayed that Emily wasn't reliving her worst nightmare.

—

Hotch's stomach twisted into a knot when Emily came staggering out of the roaring fire, her shirt spotted with blood and her face bruised, bloodied as well. His heart had already threatening to pound its way through his chest for the last three days, and he thought that seeing her alive was all he would need to calm his nerves. But she didn't look good. He was about to reach for her while she called back to the fire for Reid and Morgan, but the two of them came stumbling through the smoke and she walked as fast as her tired feet would carry her, taking Reid into her arms.

—

"What are you doing here?" Hotch asked with unintentional snippiness when Emily walked tentatively through his office door without knocking. Her battered face was rather effective in making him feel like an ass for even opening his mouth. "You…know what I mean. You should be home resting."

"You've been awake just as long as I have, and you're here," Emily said. "Why didn't you go home?"

"Well, there are things to be done." Hotch folded his hands in front of him and wondered how to broach the subject. Or whether it should just be ignored. If she told him the first time, surely she would tell him if it happened again. Or maybe she would be afraid—yes, he had put on quite the display the night she'd told him, had been extremely overprotective afterward. Maybe she wouldn't want to burden him again.

But then he realized his worry might be completely needless. He hadn't thought about it yet, but she _had_ hugged Reid. She still hadn't been able to hug Hotch since the first incident. But then again, maybe the fact that she went through the ordeal with Reid made him immune to the no-hugging policy.

"Are you okay?" Emily asked, slowly lowering herself into the chair across from Hotch. She winced at the pain provided by her bruised ribs.

"That's immaterial. Are _you_ okay?" Hoping the trepidation in his voice would be enough to clue Emily in as to his real question, Hotch asked nothing further.

Even though she knew no one else had come back to the office, Emily glanced out Hotch's office door anyway. "He didn't do anything like that," she said. "Not that it matters."

"_Not that it matters_?" Hotch congratulated himself on finding a way to be angry and relieved at the same time.

Emily rolled her eyes and hunched over. "That's not what I meant."

"Just because you're a victim once doesn't mean you're under some sort of contract not to let it bother you again."

"Hey, calm down," Emily said. "Let's not play semantics. Nothing happened."

"But you'd tell me if something had." Hotch's lips stretched into a thin, taut line across his focused face.

"With how much it affected you last time? I honestly don't know. Okay, that was the wrong answer," Emily said hurriedly when Hotch ran a hand through his hair. "I swear, it wasn't like last time. You have to believe me."

"I believe you." The words on the paper in front of him suddenly became worlds more interesting than Emily, or so his eyes said.

"Then why do you seem more upset right now than when I walked in here?"

**May 2008**

Hotch wondered if he could even say the words. He _needed_ to, since it was becoming clear that Emily couldn't. It took him a minute to gather them. "Did they rape you?"

Emily looked up, two tears streaming down her face, and Hotch was certain that his worst suspicions had been confirmed. But she shook her head.

Hotch's thudding heart didn't relent, even after Emily's denial. "Then…"

Emily wiped her tears away with heels of her head, hanging her head in shame for a moment. She looked back up at Hotch with red eyes and sniffled. "They almost did."

"What the hell did they do to you?" Hotch couldn't hold back the anger in his voice. It wasn't as if the men who did this were here. Emily wasn't to blame. And upon issuing those words, he knew they probably weren't helping her at all. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to curse like that. I'm not angry at you."

"It's okay, I know," Emily stammered.

"What did they do?" he asked again, more calmly this time.

Emily shook her head again, her hair, lopsided from her nap, swinging around her neck.

"You can tell me. I won't tell a soul."

"I don't want to talk about it in detail. I'm sorry I brought it up. But if I told you exactly what they did, you wouldn't feel any better. I just…needed someone to know. I don't know why."

"Don't be sorry. Don't even say that. How have you dealt with this all week? Did you tell the hospital staff when you got checked out?"

"No," Emily said, her sinuses already congested. "Why does it matter where the bruises came from, what they did or didn't do to me?"

"You at least have to go in for a psych eval. Sexual abuse is a whole new ballgame."

"No," Emily said firmly. "Absolutely not. I'm okay."

"If you're okay, then why are you crying?" Hotch thoughtlessly reached for Emily's hand but she took it away immediately.

"Because I feel guilty for bringing it up. Instead of just me upset, now it's you too, and you're worse than I am."

"Bullshit. Emily, this isn't something you can just brush off. I shouldn't be more upset than you. You don't have to act strong for anyone. It's just me here," Hotch said, focusing all his energy on staying calm for her.

"I'm not."

"Then make an appointment. You have to talk to someone."

"I'm talking to _you_. And I know you think I'm a wreck because I'm crying, but right now I'm more upset about upsetting you than I am about what happened."

"Don't insult my intelligence. If you were okay, you wouldn't have told a soul. I know you. You're more closed up than I am sometimes. You told me because you couldn't deal on your own. There are professionals—"

"And there's you," Emily said with gut-wrenching poignancy. "I'm sorry to have upset you, but I do feel better just knowing that I'm not alone. That's all I needed."

Hotch dropped the foot he was sitting on onto the floor and put his hands palm to palm in front of his face. "I wish you would talk to a professional. It is protocol, you know."

"I know. But I was hoping you could make an exception."

Hotch turned his head and tried to find in Emily's eyes what on earth was keeping her so calm, when all he wanted to do was pick up the nearest object and toss it at the broadest target in the room. "I'm at a loss. I know you don't want to talk specifics, and I don't blame you, but at the same time this is protocol for a reason. A lot of abuse victims deny the fact that they need help, even if it's just to talk about it."

"Please, no…"

Hotch shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I need you to see someone. And you can't come back to work until you do. This is your chance to take some more time. Everyone could tell today that you weren't ready to be back. Hate me if you want to, but I'm pulling rank."

She wished she could hate him, but what he was saying made sense, and she could tell he wasn't doing it just to pass the burden off to somebody else. She nodded in resignation and wrapped her blanket more tightly around her, tucking her hands back inside. "One session?"

"As long as they clear you, you can come back. It might take more than one session."

Emily nodded again and got up from the couch. She looked utterly spent. "Please, don't be angry with me. I'm only trying to do what's best for you. It's not because I'm afraid I'd get in trouble for breeching protocol. It's because I care. If I really thought you were okay, I'd let you come back."

"I know," Emily said, barely above a whisper as she stepped noiselessly into the kitchen. She was about to get herself a glass of water, but Hotch got up and beat her to the cabinet.

"Do you need anything else?" Hotch asked, filling up the glass from the tap and handing it to her.

Emily shook her head before taking a sip. She was fully aware that Hotch was standing silently, hands in his pockets, waiting for her to make some sort of request or comment. Waiting to make himself useful. _He doesn't deserve this_, she thought. "I should get going."

"Are you sure?" Hotch asked.

"Whenever I get emotional I get worn out really fast. I'm dead on my feet."

Hotch looked guiltily down at the kitchen tile. "I would offer for you to crash here, but..."

"Oh, no, no, no," Emily said. "that would be a bad idea."

The swiftness with which she said this stung Hotch a little. "Will you be okay getting home?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." Emily set her water glass in the sink and slithered between Hotch and the wall to get to her things at the door. Hotch waited politely, as usual, until Emily was ready to leave.

"I don't think I said I'm sorry," he realized aloud.

"I told you, don't feel guilty," Emily said.

"I can't avoid _that_. But that's not what I meant. I meant that I'm sorry for what you went through. Regardless of who's to blame, it kills me to think of what that must have been like for you."

"Then don't think about it," Emily said simply, and, she realized, rather coldly. "I mean, just…think about something else. That's what I've been doing. Just distract yourself. Thinking about it doesn't really do any good."

"I can't stop thinking about it. But…don't feel guilty. In a way that I can't really explain, I'm glad that I know. Maybe I'm just glad _someone_ knows. You shouldn't go through this alone."

Emily nodded and threw her purse over her shoulder. Hotch stepped in to hug her and she must have known exactly what he was about to do, because she shrunk away and shook her head rapidly. "No, sorry. I can't…guys, touching me…I can't do it."

"That's okay. No need to apologize. How did you not lose it when we found you? Everyone was all over you."

"To be honest," Emily said with a shrug, "I was so tired and in shock when you guys found me that I don't remember much of what happened around that point in time. I was pretty, I don't know, numb."

"I'm so sorry."

"You know what would really help right now?" Emily said. "You know what you can do for me?"

"What?"

"Stop apologizing. None of it was your fault, and I don't want anyone's pity. I'm glad to know that I don't have to deal with any of this alone, but I don't want anyone to feel sorry for me. Maybe it doesn't seem like there's a difference between the two, but there is or me. I just need support, not pity. And if you're going to feel sorry for me then at least fake like you're not, okay?" She looked hopefully at him, wringing her hands.

"Okay."

**July 2008**

"Hey, seriously. Why are you so much more upset? Was it something I said?"

"No, it's nothing. I'm exhausted, I'm cranky, I'm sad, I feel guilty…none of those are really conducive to reasonable interactions right now. You didn't do anything wrong."

"Okay," Emily said, sounding confused and not nearly convinced.

"Do you need a ride home?"

"No, no, I'll be fine." Emily watched with curiosity when Hotch stood at the same time she did. He looked like he wanted something, was missing something, and she suddenly had a guess as to what that might be. She walked around his desk and wrapped her arms around him. "See? I'm fine. Everything's okay." She almost laughed when the typically unmovable rock of a man patted her back like he might break her. "You're making me feel like I'm over-hugging," Emily informed him in an awkward but light tone.

Hotch found her attempts at easing the tension only somewhat amusing, and he let none of that amusement show. "You sure I can?"

"If you don't, I'm going to feel like an idiot. Just hug me. I won't break." They embraced for quite a while, Hotch with more vigor, eventually, and Emily began to wonder what was going on behind her. Was Hotch crying? "Is _that_ what this was all about?"

"What?" Hotch asked, not letting go.

"You're pissed because I hugged Reid," Emily said, trying not to laugh as she pulled away.

"What? No, I'm not upset at all. Why would I be?" Hotch stared out his window.

"You're jealous," Emily said with a smirk.

"Stop."

"All right, all right," Emily sighed. The energy in the room was suddenly much lighter—something that both of them needed. "I'm really going to leave this time."

"Want me to walk you out?" Hotch offered.

"You're leaving?"

"I could," Hotch said with a shrug.

Emily politely refrained from picking on Hotch any further. He was clearly trying to be a gentleman, trying to reassure her that he was and always would be there for her, and the idea that he found this necessary was a bit laughable to Emily. She already knew. But she let him go through the motions.

"Why did you come back in, anyway?" Hotch asked as they reached their cars. "Why didn't you just go straight home?"

"Because I knew you'd be more of a wreck than I was and you'd need a little pep talk. I was right."

Hotch cast Emily a reproving glance as he opened the back door of his car and threw in his bag and briefcase.

"What? I was," Emily said, taking her bag from Hotch (he had insisted on carrying it, and Emily had let him, thinking that helping her with something so menial would actually help _him_).

"Am I really that obvious?" Hotch asked.

"Well," Emily said, a hint of a smile making her lips twitch, "you could maintain that most of the reason why you look like you got hit by a truck is because you're tired. But I know it's also because you worried about me, and I'm glad. Not that you worried, but that you cared enough to, I guess."

Hotch looked somewhat embarrassed and headed to the driver's side of his car. "Get some rest."

"It's not something to be self-conscious about, you know," Emily said.

Hotch looked up right as he was about to get into his car. "What isn't?"

"Caring."

**A/N: Please leave a review! :)**


	31. The French Fry Confessional

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

**Thursday  
**

Though she had decided weeks ago not to be vindictive toward Hotch, Emily decided that if he was the one who wanted this, _he_ could do the work. She waited for him to close the distance between them, made him erase every centimeter; she took those slowly passing seconds, staring into his eyes, to formulate some sort of expectation. Would sparks fly? Would the lack of spontaneity totally kill the kiss? Would she freeze up?

When their lips met for the first time in almost three years, Emily realized that having expectations would have been pointless. They would have been blown to pieces. She told herself, while their lips remained stationary for a moment, that she _had_ to have known deep down inside that it would be like this—exactly like this. Just this little touch from him was enough to make every hair stand on end, every square inch of her body feel electrified. She didn't need his other hand on her other cheek, didn't need his first hand to comb back through her hair, to realize she'd made a serious mistake. He did those things, but a closed-mouth kiss alone was enough to tell her she was doomed. And stupid.

Hotch felt anything but doomed or stupid when, the second he pulled away, a desperate hand braced the back of his head and pulled him back in. He was in. He wasn't dreaming. Not only was she not objecting to his lips on hers, but she was asking for more. He had to control himself, had to make sure his hands weren't too eager or rude. Sure, her hand was eager, but the ball was in her court, not his. Whether they acted upon the undeniable chemistry was completely up to her. At least for now, it seemed as though she was in fervent agreement with this idea, so he gladly continued.

Emily couldn't help but lunge a little into Hotch the third time their mouths united, this time separating her lips and loving the fact that he had done the same. Neither party was sure if they'd already had his agreed-upon _one_ kiss, or if this counted as simply a continuation, but they certainly weren't going to stop him and talk that sort of thing over. Certainly not once Hotch's tongue skated along her bottom lip once, then dipped into Emily's mouth. She breathed out then in and let her tongue somewhat mimic the actions of her hand that raked through his hair.

Had he already had his share? Hotch wondered. The kiss grew more heated by the second, and Emily's other hand was clutching his back, trapping him—not that he wanted to go anywhere anytime soon.

**Friday**

"You sure it's okay that I'm here?" Emily asked warily as Garcia welcomed her, Henry, and Charlotte into her office.

"Oh, but of course. We're on stand down right now; work load is a little lighter. Besides, it's seven and Morgan told me to go home half an hour ago. Now come here, my little Henry." Garcia crouched down and held her bangle-covered arms out to her godson, who had been holding onto Emily's pant leg. He grinned and toddled over to Garcia. "How are you? How's everything? Here, sit, sit." Garcia pulled up an extra rolling chair for Emily, who set Charlotte's car seat on the floor and dropped her diaper bag on the other side of her.

Emily sat. "I have a confession to make."

"Uh oh," Garcia said grimly, scrunching her nose as Henry took her glasses off of her. "Honey, please don't touch the middle part where I look out of okay? Ahh, okay, fingerprints, awesome. What is all over his fingers, anyway?"

"That's my confession."

"Okay, no more being cryptic. Cough it up."

"I fed him fast food for dinner." Emily groaned and put her head between her knees. "Hotch took Jack over to Jessica's for dinner tonight and we're out of groceries and tomorrow is Saturday and that's grocery day and I would have gone tonight but I just didn't have the energy and I wanted to come and see you and he was hungry, which is understandable, because around dinner time, kids usually get hungry, but I should have fed him real food because he can finally keep it down. He was sick yesterday and the day before. Did I tell you?" Emily's face finally made a reappearance, but only halfway. Her hands covered its lower half.

"Henry, sweetie, can you—" A knock sounded at the door just as Garcia was setting Henry down on the floor. She got up and opened it. Morgan was on the other side.

"I thought I heard my favorite—Emily. Prentiss. What's the matter?" he asked with sudden but not uncharacteristic tenderness.

"Derek, I need you to take Henry," Garcia said, nudging Henry toward Morgan.

"Why? What's going on? Is everyone okay? Where's Hotch? Jack?"

"Henry, will you go with Uncle Derek? He'll show you some cool toys." Garcia smiled at the questioning toddler, apparently enough for him to trust her judgment. He let Morgan pick him up.

"Where am I supposed to take a two-year-old? We don't exactly have a playground in here."

"Just—shoo!" Garcia waved Morgan away impatiently and waited for him to shut the door. "Okay," she said, then took a deep breath. She rolled her chair toward Emily and took her hands. "I need you to repeat after me."

"Okay," Emily said pathetically.

"My name is Emily Prentiss."

"No, I'm not doing this—"

"Repeat after me," Garcia said again. "My name is Emily Prentiss.

Emily shook her head at the floor. "My name is Emily Prentiss."

"I am amazing."

"Seriously?"

"I am amazing."

"Fine, I am amazing," Emily relented.

"Say it with a little more feeling, or at least a little less bitterness," Garcia said.

"I am amazing."

"I am raising two—three kids who are not mine biologically, but I love them all as if they were, and I am devoting my life to them."

"I can't remember that all."

"Then just nod if you agree," Garcia said squeezing Emily's hands. Emily nodded and looked Garcia in the eye.

"Life got the best of me today, so I had to make do. I fed a two-year-old French fries for dinner, but that does not make me a bad mommy."

"These need to be shorter," Emily said dryly.

"Stop being a smart alec. Nod if you agree." Garcia's voice never faltered.

Emily shook her head. "JJ, come back, please. I fed your kid French fries for dinner!" Emily almost wailed at the ceiling. The baby, who had been sleeping, opened her eyes and started fussing. Garcia pushed Emily back into her seat when she tried to get up to deal with the situation. "And I woke up the baby."

"Answer me this, Miss Emily," Garcia said as she unbuckled Charlotte and smiled down at her. "Are French fries food?"

"Yes. But—"

"What else did he eat?"

"Chicken nuggets."

"And is he hungry now?"

"I don't think so."

"And is he happy?" Garcia was no longer looking at Emily, but at Charlotte, who quieted down once she was being held.

"Yeah, I guess…"

"Then everything is okay. Fast food is fine in moderation. Heck, you and I ate it all the time. But even with kids, they aren't going to die if they don't get a home-cooked meal. You did not hurt anyone. You are doing a fabulous job. How is everything else?"

Emily shrugged and gazed at the floor again. On one hand, she'd been hoping to avoid this conversation. On the other hand, she figured she subconsciously chose to come see Garcia for this reason alone.

"Okay, let me be more specific. How are things with Hotch?" Garcia reached behind her and grabbed a spare, non-fingerprinted pair of glasses.

"What things?"

"Okay, now you're just dodging the question," Garcia said. "There should only _be_ one _thing_ anyway. And that's _parenting_. Right?"

"Right," Emily agreed.

"_Is_ there something else going on?" Garcia was still focusing on the now calm baby, but when Emily didn't answer, she began to worry. "Emily…"

"I did something really stupid. And before you assume the worst, no, we didn't sleep together."

"Okay, well, what's the next worst thing?"

"We had a good talk the other night, just shooting the breeze, getting along like we used to, and we kind of…ran into each other and came this close to kissing. I spent the rest of the night avoiding him but we talked last night and I actually let him something pitch to me."

"Pitch something to you?" Garcia furrowed her brow as she unbundled Charlotte, whose cheeks were going pink.

"He wasn't honest with me when we talked a couple weeks ago. He hates the idea of just being friends and he kind of accused me of not seeming open enough for him to voice that. Which I'm honestly kind of peeved about, now that I think about it. We were supposed to be honest with each other, and just because he didn't share the same ideas as me doesn't mean he had the right to lie. The goal wasn't to exactly love whatever conclusion we came to, it was just to come to a conclusion in the first place."

"Okay, so Hotch is kind of a jerk like that. We know he can be like that. But what did he try to pitch to you?"

"Us. Together."

"Okay, you know I am team 'Hotch and Emily.' Are you expecting me to be angry at him?"

"No," Emily said, waving her hands in front of her. "I'm actually waiting for you to be angry at _me_."

"I could never be angry at you. Just…tell me what happened."

"Please be prepared for how lame this is going to sound."

"It involves you and Hotch and romance. I'm sorry, but you're going to have to try _really_ hard to make this lame. I hate to cheapen this, but I'm kind of salivating over here."

"You're not helping," Emily said with a pitiful laugh.

"Sorry, sorry, go on. Prepared for lame, even though it won't be lame. Go."

"He said that if we could kiss once and I could look him in the eye and say 'no,' then he would stop badgering me."

"That sounds like something out of a movie," Garcia said dreamily.

"Yeah, I know. See, I told you. Lame."

"Not lame at all. Terribly romantic. Sweetie, he is head over heels in love with you. Whether or not you act on that, you have to at least acknowledge it. And this isn't puppy love. If he's willing to try this with you despite Jack's wellbeing being put at risk if things were to go south, then he means it. He's all in."

"That's what I was afraid of," Emily said.

"So what happened? I take it the stupid thing you let him do involved a really awesome kiss?"

"You would not be incorrect in assuming that."

"Double negatives are inappropriate, but they sound so sexy coming from you," Garcia said with a smirk. "So you let him kiss you…and it was awesome…and…?"

**Thursday**

Hotch found it in himself to relax his hold on Emily once she did the same, and though he was afraid it might kill him, he let the kiss cool down and come to a natural end. To his surprise, Emily seemed a bit reluctant to let this happen. She sighed in the quiet living room when her lips no longer had companions.

An overpowering urge to continue overtook Hotch and he leaned in for more, but Emily's hands met his chest and gently nudged him away. "You said one," she said as she opened her eyes and found his.

"Sorry."

"It's okay." Before Hotch even realized Emily was moving, she was up off the couch and headed for the basement stairs.

"Where are you going?" Hotch followed Emily down the dimly lit stairs.

"I have to switch over Henry's bedding," Emily replied in the dark. She opened the washer and pulled a comforter out. Hotch helped her stuff it into the dryer.

"You didn't give me an answer," Hotch said as he took the wet sheets out of the washer and tossed them in the dryer.

Emily simply ignored Hotch and threw a couple fabric softener sheets into the dryer and started it up. She faced the machine, her hands grasping the edge.

"Emily." The hair that covered the side of Emily's face begged to be tucked behind her ear, but he let it be. Her walking away hadn't been at all what he'd expected, or at least not what he'd hoped for. Further unsolicited touching would probably not improve matters. "Talk to me."

Hotch's voice seemed not to reach Emily's ears. She was reliving the kiss already, concentrating on the sensation of his tongue gliding smoothly across her own, his fingers eventually toying with the ends of her hair, the hot fog of his breath. When the replay ended with her leaving the couch, she came to her senses, remembered she was in the basement, and took a firm grasp on the situation.

"Emily."

"We can't do this," she said faintly, shaking her head at the cinderblock wall.

Hotch reached for the chain above the washer and dryer and the light clinked on. "I wasn't the only one who…enjoyed that. Was I?"

"That's not the point."

"Yes, it is."

"No, Hotch," Emily said, purposely reverting to the less personal version of his name just to get his attention. "The point wasn't to get me to say it was a nice kiss. The point was for you to convince me that this whole…_thing_…us getting together, is a good idea. Those two things don't necessarily go hand-in-hand."

"So you're saying no," Hotch said, leaning back against the washer, wishing with all his heart that Emily would just look at him, even though he knew her expression was anything but loving at the moment.

Emily nodded. "I really wish things were different. I _really_ do. But they're not. And I'm sorry I led you on and let you try to sell me this idea. I should have stood my ground. We need to be adults about this."

"So you're not denying the fact that it felt right?"

"No, I'm not. But just because it _felt_ right doesn't mean it _was_ right. I'm saying no."

"Are you sure?" Hotch was just trying to prolong the period of time before she rejected him once and for all, to live just one more moment in uncertainty instead of disappointment.

"I'm sure."

"You have to look me in the eye and say it," Hotch reminded her. "That was part of the deal."

"Are you really going to keep pushing this?" Emily said with an exasperated sigh, covering her forehead with one hand as if she had a headache.

"I'll believe you if you can say it to my face. So far you've just been telling the wall."

He'd crossed a line in his despair. Emily turned sharply toward him and her eyes bore angry holes through his. "I'm saying no." She crouched down to the heaping basket of laundry that sat under the laundry chute.

**Friday**

"So that was it?" Garcia said, her telling face wrought with sadness.

Emily shook her head.

"Did you change your mind?" Garcia asked with hopefulness she didn't try to hide.

"No. He told me he was…sorry. Then forced me to let him do the laundry. By the way, kids go through a ridiculous amount of clothes. You'd think that since their clothes are smaller, they would produce less laundry, but _au contraire_. He probably didn't even get through half of it last night."

"I take it you want to change the subject?" Garcia said, playing with the embroidered flower on the baby's shirt.

"I just needed to vent. So unless you have encouraging words…" Emily said with a shrug.

"Honey, I am an endless fount of encouraging words. You know this."

Emily chuckled miserably. "How could I forget?"

"You are a smart, level-headed woman. You've obviously learned how to draw the line between what's right and what you want, which is obviously something you feel is necessary in this situation. My hopeless romantic self wishes things would have worked out differently, but I also realize this is your decision, not mine, and whatever _you_ decide to do is the right thing, because you're the one who's going to live with that decision, not me. So Hotch is just going to have to get over it and realize you're right. And if he doesn't leave you alone about it, call him out on it."

"I can't be mad at him for this time," Emily said. "The 'gotcha' kiss the other night was both of us. He was pushy last night, yeah, but I could have told him to lay off from the get go. I'm just as much to blame as he is. But you're right, if he persists, then I'll give him hell."

"Atta girl," Garcia said with a half-grin. "Want to go say hi to everyone?"

"Yeah, that sounds nice. Did I mess up my makeup?"

Garcia leaned in to inspect Emily's face, then licked a thumb and rubbed at a smudge of black under Emily's eye. "Just a little schmutz," Garcia said. "All gone."

"Did you just lick my face?" Emily asked, laughing.

"No, I licked my thumb and then I touched your face. Come here." Garcia pulled Emily into a tight embrace, trying not to smother the baby in the process. "Let's go. I'm sure the guys all want to see both your pretty faces. "

—

"So, how are things going?" Jessica asked while she dished out some peas onto Jack's plate.

"They're going well," Hotch answered.

"How is…Emily?"

"She's fine."

Jessica nodded and looked like she wanted to say something on the matter, but didn't. "And how has school been for you, mister?" she asked Jack.

Jack shrugged and mashed his peas with his fork.

"I miss you, sweetie," she said, smoothing a hand over Jack's hair.

"I miss you too, Auntie Jessie."

A guilty knot twisted inside of Hotch's gut. "I'll try to get him over once a week for dinner, if that's okay," Hotch said to Jessica.

"It's better than what I've had so far," she said coolly.

"I know I didn't try hard enough to keep you in the picture the last few weeks. Things have just been crazy."

"I understand." Forks and knives clanging against plates produced the only sound in the dining room for a few minutes. "Okay, I wasn't going to ask this, but I feel really out of the loop and I think this is important for me to know. Are you and Emily actually keeping things platonic?"

Hotch's eyes widened and before he could come up with an answer, Jack piped in. "What's that mean?"

"It means friends, sweetie. Eat your dinner." Jessica said, patting his shoulder lightly. "Well?" she asked Hotch.

"Yes. Emily and I are just friends."

Jack, in one of those moments where Hotch regretted how smart and attentive he was, said, "But Daddy, you were kissing her! Do friends do that?"

**A/N: Thanks for sticking with me here…please leave a review and let me know what you think :)**


	32. Friends

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

"You _what_?" Jessica nearly screamed at Hotch, her pointed facial features even harsher in her fiery rage.

Hotch laid his knife and fork down on his plate and closed his eyes. "Jack misunderstood."

"Right, I'm sure he did," Jessica spat. "What kind of kissing, honey?" she asked Jack, a hand on his back. "On the lips or on the cheek?"

"On the lips," Jack said simply, too young to understand that it was his words that were making his father so distressed, that his answer may have changed things forever.

"So you were—" Jessica started, but she stopped and put both hands flat in front of her as if to stop someone from approaching her. "Nope, you know what? We're not talking about this right now."

"Good, because there's nothing to talk about," Hotch said coldly, picking up his silverware again and cutting into his roast beef, making significantly smaller pieces this time. He knew he wouldn't escape the house without getting the third degree from Jessica, whose hawk eyes watched him with scrutiny until she got up to clear the table.

"Okay, buddy, time to go say goodbye to Auntie Jessie," Hotch said to Jack as soon as Jessica was out of the room.

"You know you're not getting off that easily," she called back from the kitchen.

Hotch sighed and ruffled Jack's hair before joining Jessica.

"We _are_ keeping things platonic," he said simply, hiding his furling and unfurling hands in his pants pockets. Jessica showed her back to him as she loaded the dishwasher and still didn't face him when she answered.

"I don't understand how making out with someone is platonic," Jessica said. "Were you D-R-U-N-K?"

"No. Look, I know you're concerned about you-know-who, but I promise you that you don't need to be. What happened last night isn't going to happen again. We talked about it."

"Oh, wow, you _talked about it._ Way to go, Aaron. I'm sure it's going to be really easy to live with someone you're attracted to and keep your paws off her because you _talked about it._"

"You know what, I don't need this. And you-know-who doesn't need to listen to this.

"I'd rather he hear us fight now than have his life turned upside down in a couple months because his father can't keep his—in his pants," she hissed.

"We're leaving," Hotch announced. "Jack, come on, kiddo. Let's go home and see Emily and Charlotte and Henry."

"Okaaaaay," Jack moaned, ambling into the kitchen to give his aunt a hug. She crouched down to hold him, shooting Hotch a glare that made him feel like he'd killed her puppy.

"Bye, sweetheart. I love you." Jessica kissed Jack sweetly on the forehead and held his face in her hands. "How about you come over for dinner next Friday? Just you? And maybe you can spend the night."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah!" Jack said, bouncing on his feet a couple of times. "Daddy, can I?"

Hotch's usual stony face didn't register as anything odd to Jack, but Jessica's superior face indicated that she knew she had Hotch trapped, and her cocked eyebrow dared him to try to escape.

"Sure, buddy," Hotch said with little choice. "See you next Friday, Jessica."

"See you then," she said smugly.

—

"Okay, Henry, you go see Uncle Spencer. I wanna say hi to your little sister," Morgan said to the boy, setting him down on the floor near Emily's former desk and pointing toward Reid, who sat at his own desk with open arms and an uncertain smile upon hearing his name. Morgan snatched up the blonde baby from Garcia and held her gingerly against his chest. "Look at you," he said softly under his breath as he rocked her back and forth.

"That is possibly the most criminally adorable thing I have ever seen," Garcia said with a pout, her hand over her heart.

Grateful for a distraction from her suffering—because the sight of Morgan's sculpted, powerful muscles cradling a bright-eyed baby did miraculous things for the heart—Emily was able to smile and enjoy the moment.

"Be right back," Garcia said. She disappeared up the stairs, but Emily's eyes were on Morgan and the baby, not on wherever it was that Garcia was off to.

"Penelope. What brings you up here?" Rossi asked, packing up his briefcase.

"You need to talk to Hotch," Garcia whispered. She cocked her head toward his window into the bullpen.

"Is he okay?"

"I honestly don't know," Garcia said. "I was told some things in confidence so I won't share them directly with you, but my guess is you've been just as busy as I have and haven't had the time to stop by and chat with him, so I'll just say that you should do that sometime this weekend. Take him out for lunch or drinks or something, or I can take Emily out and you can visit him at home. But you need to get him alone."

"Is this about Emily?" One of Rossi's eyes widened suspiciously while the other stayed unchanged.

"It's about everything. He needs a man to talk to. Maybe you should bring Derek and Reid, too. I don't know. Or maybe not. No, don't ambush him. Just you. He needs someone to talk to."

"All right," Rossi said warily. "I'll give him a call."

—

The hodgepodge family reconvened at their home not long before the children's bedtime that night. The baby was wide awake, but the boys went to bed without a struggle, a blessing that Hotch and Emily knew they wouldn't have every night. So tonight, they cherished it.

"Can I see her?" Hotch asked Emily, holding out his arms for the baby. They were in the kitchen, both of them having seemingly decided that the living room may be neutral territory, but it was no longer necessarily safe.

"Of course. You don't have to ask." Straight-faced, Emily handed Charlotte over to Hotch. He smiled faintly down at her, and the way his heart ticked faster reassured him that last night hadn't ruined things. He loved this family—with all its awkwardness and complications—too much to let his and Emily's situation get in the way. Sure, it wouldn't be easy to live with her and know he couldn't hold her, kiss her, touch her, tell her how much he loved her, but he had a family. And as much as he treasured Jack, things had never felt complete with just the two of them. But now Jack had a mother figure, Hotch had what could hopefully remain a loyal, understanding friend, and Charlotte and Henry brought everything full circle.

"What's on your mind?" Emily asked after much deliberation while she poured herself a mug of just-perked decaf.

"Just remembering how good I have it," Hotch said honestly.

Emily almost poured coffee on the counter at Hotch's heartbreakingly sweet sincerity. "That's an improvement from twenty-four hours ago," she said, the surprise ringing right through her voice.

"Well, you're right. We can't have a relationship half way, and if you're not in it, then I have to accept that. And I have to remember that we still have each other as friends, and when we're on, we're _on_. We work well as a team, we understand each other, we care about each other. I think this can work out perfectly fine."

"I'm glad you're optimistic," Emily said guardedly.

"Are you?" Hotch asked, his words barely forming in his dry mouth as he cautiously raised his head to look at Emily, to read her.

"Of course," Emily said, putting on the most confident smile her lips would tolerate.

"There is…one little thing we need to talk about, though. It's not me pressuring you, don't worry. It's nothing like that. But apparently Jack saw us last night. He brought it up in front of Jessica at dinner tonight." Hotch watched Emily's face droop in terror while he spoke.

"Oh my God," Emily breathed. "What did he say?"

"Well, he said it right after I told Jessica that you and I are just friends, because, of course, she was prying, which I don't quite blame her for. Anyway, it was a Kids Say the Darnedest Things moment, but not very funny."

"So all he said was that he saw us?"

Hotch nodded. "And asked if that's what friends do. But he didn't ask about it again, not even on the way home. But I still think we should talk to him about it tomorrow. He needs to understand what's going on."

"Yeah." Emily leaned against the fridge with her coffee, hiding her face in one hand. "Shit."

"It'll be okay," Hotch said.

"I feel awful. The poor kid's already confused enough, I'm sure."

"He really didn't seem to think anything of it," Hotch insisted. "But still, we should just explain things to him. In five-year-old terms."

"Yeah," Emily repeated, her forehead creased with dread.

"I didn't mean to make you worry. Don't lose sleep on it. Everything'll be fine."

"She needs a bath tonight while she's up," Emily said, sipping her coffee and nodding toward the baby.

"Let's hop to it, then."

"Well, it's my turn. I can do it on my own."

Hotch considered pushing the, for now, false image of everything between them being hunky-dory. But he knew he needed to give her time, even though all he wanted to do was pretend he'd never heard the most gut-wrenching words of his life from her last night. He desperately needed to regain equilibrium, but he also recognized the need to give Emily space. She might need to spend more time in disarray than he. "Okay." His phone chirped in his pocket, so he handed over the baby, who immediately began to scream.

"Uh-oh, someone's playing favorites," Emily crooned.

Hotch grinned and watched Emily retreat up the stairs before answering his phone. It was Rossi.

"Dave."

"Aaron."

—

**June 2009**

Hotch was half-reclined in his hospital bed three days after his life had nearly—but purposely not—been taken from him with a knife. Three days after Jack was snatched from him, held in protective custody until his father could recuperate and run after the son of a bitch who'd done this.

"Hey," Emily said with an artificially cheery voice and smile when she walked into Hotch's room with a large purse. Hotch knew it was filled with contraband food. The hospital fare wasn't all that terrible, but Emily had seemed to pick up cooking just three days ago, and the end result was actually pretty good most times. She shut the door behind her.

"Hey," he returned as kindly as he could. "How was work?"

"Fine," she said, setting her tote down on the floor and digging out a plastic container filled with some sort of colorful pasta mixed with chicken and vegetables. She cracked it open and handed it to Hotch with a fork.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"What did you do today?"

"Ohh, I sat here, flipped channels, played with the reclining settings on my bed, flipped some more channels, got poked and prodded a few times, had my dressings changed by a very lonely nurse…"

Emily let out a breathy laugh. "Sounds like good times."

Hotch rolled his eyes with a mouthful of pasta. "I just want to lie in my own bed. I'll put up with the bed rest. I just wish it didn't have to be here."

"I hear ya," Emily said with a pitiful glance his way while she opened up her own identical dinner. "Oh! Wait. I have a surprise for you." She set her food down on the bedside table and fished her keys out of her purse. Attached to them was a flash drive. She walked to the other side of the room and picked up Hotch's laptop, which she'd brought in for him under the agreement that he wouldn't use it for work purposes. So he basically hadn't used it at all.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, stabbing hungrily at his pasta.

"If I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise," Emily said. She plopped back down into her chair and woke the computer from its sleep state before plugging in the flash drive. "It's the only file on there. I think it's just a few minutes long. I'm gonna go grab some coffee and leave you alone. Want me to sneak you some?"

"Coffee would be great," Hotch said absentmindedly, staring at the computer screen. Once Emily was gone, he located the solitary file and double-clicked. A video popped up, filling his screen with Jack's face.

"Hi, Daddy!" he shouted, looking below the camera at his own image.

"Look into the camera, honey, here," sounded Haley's voice. Her finger blocked the webcam lens momentarily while she pointed at it.

"Okay. Hi, Daddy!" Jack said again, smiling nervously.

"Ask him how he's feeling," Haley whispered in the background, obviously thinking her voice was quiet enough not to be recorded. Hotch chuckled despite the hot tears stinging his eyes.

"How are you feeling, Daddy?"

"Much better," Hotch mouthed to the screen.

"Tell him about your day, honey," Haley prodded.

"Mommy and I went to the park today, Daddy! What else did we do, Mommy?"

"Ice cream," Hotch heard her whisper.

"Oh yeah. We got ice cream and Mommy let me get free scoops!" Jack looked down at his hands for a moment to count out three fingers, then held them up. "And we moved into a new house and my room is really big!"

Hotch reached his hand to his face to wipe away what he thought were just a couple of stray tears, but realized upon touching a cheek that his face was sopping wet already. This just brought on sobs that racked his entire body, making him ache in all nine of his wounds, even though not a single one of them had cut nearly as deeply as this.

"What else, Mommy?"

"You tell Daddy whatever you want, sweetie. Just talk to him. I'm gonna leave you alone now. Just come get me when you're done."

"Okay." Hotch watched as Jack looked around the room, perhaps for inspiration. "Mommy says we'll get to come home soon, once you catch more bad guys."

Hotch leaned his head back into the plastic headboard and let the tears flow as they would, without abandon.

"I miss you, Daddy. And Auntie Jessie and Auntie Emily."

"I know," Hotch whispered.

"Okay, I gotta go now. I gotta go potty. Bye, Daddy!" Jack waved at the camera, his eyes focused on the screen now, probably on his own image. The video went on as a recording of an empty room until a few minutes later when it stopped, probably from the lid closing. He didn't figure Haley had any words to say to him. She'd said them all already.

Without skipping a beat, Hotch started the video up again. His eyes were so puffy he could hardly see by the time the video ended for the second time, but he pressed play again. Just then, Emily opened the door a crack. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," Hotch choked. He paused the video.

"Oh no," Emily said when she saw Hotch's splotchy, soaked face.

"It's fine, it's fine," Hotch said. "How did you get this?"

"It takes a few days to get the video to the right people and get it encrypted or de-encrypted or get whatever black magic done to it that they have to do to make it impossible to track where it was recorded, but apparently, long story short, they can send videos. Garcia just got it today and I mentioned I was going to drop by so she had me bring it. No one watched it first."

Hotch looked pathetically into Emily's eyes. "Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me."

Hotch nodded resignedly. "Hey, do you want to watch it? He mentioned you."

"Aww, he did?" Emily cooed, the sight of Hotch's tear-stained face, the sound of his stuffy voice, and this little tidbit of information all combining to start her crying a little, too.

"Yeah," Hotch said. He slid the laptop down to his knees so Emily could scoot in next to him and watch. She was just as much of a mess as he once the video was over. Finishing her dinner was the last thing on her mind. She felt downright nauseated with sorrow. Both for Jack, whom she truly did love, and for Hotch, whom she loved in a much different way, who had certainly never experienced this much pain in his life before the last few days' events.

"We'll catch him," Emily said, reaching blindly for Hotch's hand and interlacing her fingers with his. He squeezed back appreciatively.

**A/N: Thanks so much for reading, as well as for all your lovely reviews last chapter. They really are motivating. Please keep your thoughts coming! :)**


	33. Crushed

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

"_Golf_?" Emily asked Hotch the next morning with more than just a hint of skepticism. They were getting the kids' jackets on in preparation for a trip to the grocery store. Emily had offered to go on her own, as Hotch had already done the weekend before, but he insisted on making it a family outing.

"I didn't say I'm going to play _well_, I just said I'll play," Hotch said. "Will you be okay on your own with the kids in the morning? I should be home around one or two."

"That's fine. But you _know_ what he wants."

"I know," Hotch said with a sigh as he zipped Henry up.

"He's going to want to snoop."

"Yes, I know. No less than what Garcia did last night when you stopped at the BAU, I'm sure." Hotch didn't sound as angry as Emily had expected. She hadn't told him about the nature of her conversation with Garcia, or even that she had spoken alone with her, and figured that if Hotch knew how much she'd confided in her friend, he might be offended. But he seemed quite understanding and patient for a man who'd had his heart trampled on seventy-two hours ago.

"Well, it wasn't really snooping. She just cares," Emily said.

"And so does Dave. Why he wants to show how much he cares over a game of golf is beyond me, but it couldn't hurt. Maybe I need a hobby. That could be good for me."

"When's the last time you even played?" Emily opened the front door and herded everyone outside.

"Maybe two years ago. I don't even remember," Hotch said with a laugh. Three minutes later, every child was buckled in in the appropriate seat. They hadn't all been in a car together since the day of JJ and Will's funeral. Hotch and Emily glanced at each other knowingly when they got in the front. "Tight fit," Hotch remarked with a fittingly tight voice.

"Was it this small the last time we were all in here?" Emily said in wonderment.

"No idea. Hey Jack, did you shrink the car?" Hotch asked with a frown, looking straight into his rear-view mirror at his son.

"No!" Jack said with a giggle. "You can't shrink a car!"

"Henry?" Hotch twisted to look into the back seat. "Did _you_ shrink the car?"

Henry smiled shyly and hid his face behind his hands.

"I think Henry did it," Hotch said seriously to Emily.

Emily rolled her eyes, her amusement difficult to hide. She'd expected things to be unbearably awkward between the two of them the last couple of days, but so far the vulnerability she felt—and that she presumed Hotch, the rejected party, felt even more—hadn't translated into in an inability to function with him. Maybe it was the kids—they needed her, and they needed Hotch. Maybe Emily knew just enough, subconsciously, that she couldn't keep this about her and Hotch. Not during business hours, anyway. She'd managed to avoid much conversation with Hotch while the kids were in bed and not occupying their time. But that couldn't go on forever. Eventually she'd have to actually live with him, not hide from him. But for now, distraction by children worked, followed by spending the evening holed up in her room.

"We do need to get something bigger," Emily said. "Is your car paid off?"

"Bought it in cash."

"Wow," Emily said, genuinely impressed. "I was never that good at saving. Anyway, I guess we can sell either one of ours or trade it in, then have one bigger vehicle for the kids. Both could be interchangeable. Do you think that would work?"

"Yeah, that sounds feasible. Maybe we should do a little shopping around next weekend."

"Sounds good," Emily said as Hotch pulled out of his neighborhood. _Their_ neighborhood.

—

"I can totally see why some parents just get a babysitter so they can go grocery shopping," Emily said with a sigh as she pushed one cart with the baby, in her car seat in the main compartment with her eyes wandering, and Henry in the seat. Jack followed his dad, who had the cart for actual food.

Hotch grinned and picked out the basics while Emily walked ahead of him down the cereal aisle, letting Henry pick out a box. Hotch had been trying with all his might the past two days to erase Emily's words from his memory, to hold onto the slippery bit of hope he had left, but every time he saw her interacting with the children now, all he could think was that the only reason she was being civil with him was for them. Had they not agreed to form this family together, had they not had responsibilities to others, and she had turned him down for some other reason, he suspected that that probably would have been the end of them. With every bit of their hearts wide open to one another, but with something in the way, one or both of them would have fled. Friendships simply didn't go on in the wake of such confessions. Unrequited love was one thing—one party could feign satisfaction while the other remained oblivious. Even requited love that didn't make it out in the open was doable. If he had never pushed the idea, had never admitted how he felt, even if he knew Emily returned those feelings in secret, they could go on as at least strained friends. And maybe recover.

But being certain that it was only Emily's devotion to the kids that kept her around didn't bode well for their friendship in Hotch's mind. He had no idea what she was thinking whenever they made eye contact, but he knew that all that ran through his _own_ mind was how she had kissed him with just as much passion as he had kissed her, how she she'd hardly been able to unglue herself from him, and how sure he'd been, during that kiss, that there was only one obvious choice for their future. And then how she'd pulled the rug out from beneath him, had said no, and for reasons that didn't quite make sense to him.

What made sense to him was a trip to the store as a couple with their mismatched kids in tow. Her straightening his tie even though he never needed it. Him making her breakfast. Putting the children to bed together instead of taking turns with everything. Relaxing together afterward instead of drawing an invisible line down the middle of the house that couldn't be crossed for fear of facing the unbearable tension.

But unfortunately, what made sense to him was what seemed dangerous and irresponsible to her. She would rather—no, it wasn't fair to phrase it that way—she was _choosing_ to walk away from something that had immense potential, something they'd both wanted for a long time, despite the fact that now the timing was finally right (at least to Hotch, it was—but to Emily, whom maybe he would never understand at all, the timing was all off).

Hotch frankly hadn't had the time to mull this over until now. He'd spent Thursday night downright angry and at the same time fighting the urge to get down on his damned knees and beg; had been distracted by his work all day Friday; had spent last night furious with his ex-sister-in-law with the most vindictive streak this side of the Mississippi; and now here they were. He was about to toss a box of crackers in a shopping cart while Emily, probably under the impression that Hotch's cart was a little fuller than it really was, strolled ahead as if nothing were wrong, pretending she hadn't essentially told him twice that she wanted to be with him. She was sending forth the attitude that she was sure Hotch was handling it all right because he wasn't running away or holding anything against her. He wondered if maybe that was what she really believed. Was he really so cold on the outside that she couldn't read him? No, that couldn't be. She knew him better than anyone.

"Aaron?" Hotch realized he had the box of crackers held in a clenched fist in midair between the shelf and the cart. The sides of the box were caving in underneath his fingers. "Are you okay?"

"Oh...sorry. I'm fine. Just…tired. Did Henry pick some cereal?" Hotch asked as he dropped the poor defenseless box into the cart.

Emily would have to be an idiot to miss the distance in Hotch's eyes, to assume that he was just spacing out and crushing a box of crackers because he was tired. She saw his aloofness for what it was, but she preferred blissful ignorance for now. "Yeah, he did. Ready for the next aisle?"

**A/N: Pretty please leave a review! No account needed and it doesn't take long to let me know what you think (well, a few of you take quite a few words to do so, but either way is splendid!). Thanks to those of who who have been reviewing!  
**


	34. Boo Boos

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

"Yay," Emily whispered at the bottom of the stairs, pumping a fist at shoulder height. "They both went down for a nap at the same time!" She told Hotch.

"Good," Hotch said, unloading groceries from brown paper bags.

"Not good, _great_," Emily said. "This makes today _so_ much easier."

"Did we have some really long to-do list for the day that I don't remember?" Hotch asked, taking an armful of canned goods to the cabinet. Emily took refrigerator duty.

"Well, we have to talk to you-know-who about you-know-what," she said under her breath. Jack was watching a cartoon peacefully in the living room.

"Oh. That," Hotch said flatly.

"Did you forget?"

"What? No, no. I just…wasn't looking forward to it, is all."

"It should be easy. Don't over-complicate it. Explain it to him in kid terms. We're friends, and friends don't normally do what he saw us doing, and it won't happen again. Ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom," she sad flippantly.

The ease with which Emily said all of this just tugged at Hotch's heartstrings even more. He'd had a long, drawn-out explanation in his head that involved telling Jack that he and Emily wished they could be together (whatever that might man to Jack) but that it wasn't a good idea, and even though he knew this was no explanation to give to a five-year-old, it was the truth. But so was Emily's shorter explanation—save for the last part. They couldn't promise Jack that it would never happen again. At least, Hotch didn't think they could. Didn't think _he_ could.

"Something wrong with my explanation?" Emily asked, sniffing a carton of sour cream before walking over to the trash and dumping it.

"No. Sounds perfect," Hotch said with no enthusiasm and with no attempt to hide his glum attitude.

Emily picked up on it—he was making it rather easy for her. But now wasn't the time to talk feelings. No, they were done with that. They had to be done with that. Obviously, she was having an easier time accepting that this was the way things had to be. Maybe because she'd lived a life she didn't choose the entire time he was gone and was used to things not going her way, used to someone else deciding for her. It certainly wasn't easy because she didn't _love_ him. She did. Seeing his heart break a little more every time she was so cavalier about their relationship made her heart ache. Knowing that he wasn't getting what he needed tore her apart, especially knowing she was responsible. His suffering affected her, too. She couldn't think of a better definition for love off the top of her head, but she tried not to think about that word.

"Okay then," she said. "Let's finish putting groceries away and get it over with."

"Hey Jack," Hotch said, entering the living room a few minutes later with Emily right behind him. Jack looked up at his dad, his feet dangling from the couch upon which he had perched himself to watch his cartoons. He smiled and looked back at the television while his father sat down next to him and put an arm around him. "Emily and I need to talk to you for a minute. I'm gonna turn the cartoons off, but you can watch them again when we're done, okay buddy?"

Jack pouted when Hotch grabbed the remote and turned off the television, but didn't put up a fight beyond that. Once Emily sat in the recliner, he jumped down from the couch, away from his dad, and climbed onto her lap without permission.

"What, don't have any love for your old man?" Hotch asked, trying not to sound hurt. He had to remind himself that Jack adoring Emily could only be a good thing right now. She kissed the top of Jack's head and ruffled his hair. Jack smiled impishly at his father, getting a gentle smile in return. "Jack, do you remember what you told Auntie Jessie last night at dinner?"

"Uh-huh."

"What was it?"

"That I saw you and Auntie Emily kissing," Jack said simply.

Hotch gulped. "Okay, I'm glad you remember what you said. But I want you to do me a favor. Think you can?" Jack nodded. "Let's just…make believe that you didn't see us…kissing."

"Why?"

"Because Emily and I are only friends, and friends don't usually do that kind of thing."

"Then why did you do it, Daddy?"

"Well, you know how some people make mistakes, right?" Hotch asked, glancing at Emily, who averted her eyes from him and looked down at Jack instead. Something selfish, maybe even vindictive inside of Hotch was somewhat pleased that this wasn't terribly awkward only for him.

"Boo-boos," Jack said.

"Yup, boo-boos. That's right. Well, Emily and I made a boo-boo. We shouldn't have done what we did. And we won't do it again. So can we pretend we didn't ever do that?"

"I guess." Jack shrugged.

"Then that means no more talking about it to Auntie Jessie, okay? It makes her sad. You don't want to make her sad, do you?" Jack shook his head. "Good. Can I have a hug?" Jack nodded and hopped out of Emily's lap and into Hotch's arms. "Do you have any questions?"

"Uh-huh. Does this mean Emily can't by my mommy now?"

"Sweetie," Emily piped in, hands on her knees. "I can be whatever you want me to be. I'm just as much of a mommy to you as I am to Henry and Charlotte. Okay?" Jack nodded and reached for the remote. Hotch took the cue and turned the television back on for Jack who was clearly done talking. Emily raised a questioning eyebrow at Hotch, who just gazed blankly back at her before heading back into the kitchen.

"How do you think that went?" Emily asked tentatively, following him. "I didn't say too much about the mommy thing, did I?"

"It went fine. And you didn't say too much. Whatever he needs right now to feel at ease, I want him to have. As long as it's all right with you. I mean, if he starts calling you 'Mommy' now…"

Emily cast Hotch a reassuring look. "Then that would be fine. There's no way of getting around how unconventional all of this is. Whatever it takes for him to feel like he has a normal home and a family, he's welcome to it. Like you said."

"Then thank you," Hotch said. "I'm going to go out and buy some paint," he said abruptly. "Think you can roll the baby into my room next time she gets up?"

"Why? What's going on?"

"I'm thinking beige isn't a good baby color, right? I mean, haven't they done studies?"

Emily's face screwed up in confusion. "Umm, I guess. Why the sudden desire to paint the nursery?"

"I just…need something to do," Hotch said. "It's hard for me just to relax."

"Did I…say something?" Emily asked while Hotch put on his jacket.

Hotch knew he could complicate things further, make them both more miserable, by telling her that he felt discarded, expendable, but he reminded himself that he was forty-five, not five. "Nothing's wrong. I just feel like being busy, that's all. Might as well do my taxes tonight, too."

"Taxes? Are you serious?"

"What? They need to be done." Hotch snatched his car keys from a bowl on a table in the foyer.

"Yeah, I just…I don't think I've ever met anyone who did their taxes just because they felt like it. Usually it's not until the second week of April that anyone feels compelled to do them, unless they expect a big fat refund."

"Just trying to say busy," Hotch repeated. "Light pink? Or do you want me to bring home some color swatches first?"

"Very light pink. If you're not sure then ask the people at the paint store," Emily said with a defeated shrug. Hotch was hurt, pissed, something, and there wasn't anything she felt she could do about it at the moment. Nothing that didn't involve breaking promises she'd made to herself and to the kids.

Hotch hadn't expected Emily to get short with him in return, but when she did, he couldn't find it in himself to blame her. He was being childish, he knew. As much with the words he didn't say as the ones he did. "I'll be back in a little while, then."

**A/N: Please leave a review—they're much appreciated and very motivating. :)**


	35. Paint, Primer, Beer, and Taxes

**A/N: Thanks again for the reviews. They're insanely entertaining! It was really interesting to hear the mixed reviews on who was the good/bad guy in the last chapter. Hmmm. Enjoy this one! 'Tis a bit lighter.**

"Are you _sure_ you're okay with this?" Emily asked Garcia once Jack, Henry, and Charlotte were inside Garcia's eclectically decorated apartment with her.

"Oh my goodness, yes. I'm beyond thrilled! I put all my candles and any breakable objects away. Are you sure you only need me to take them for the day? I can keep them overnight."

"No, we just need our hands free for the day to paint the nursery."

"And…?" Garcia asked, sitting Henry at the coffee table with some crayons and a coloring book she'd bought as soon as Emily had called.

"And talk," Emily said, feeling stupid for trying to slip one past Garcia.

"I wanna stay with you," Jack whined to Emily, hugging her leg and burying his face in it. Garcia watched on curiously at the interaction, smiling at first at how attached to Emily Jack seemed to be.

Emily crouched down and stroked Jack's hair. "I'm sorry, sweetie. But if you stay here at Auntie Penelope's for just the day, then we'll be able to paint faster, okay? We'll be done before you know it." She smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "_And_…I hear you're getting something special for dinner."

"Can't you stay here and Daddy can paint?"

"He needs my help, honey."

"Are you gonna kiss again?"

Emily's eyes widened in fright. She dared not look at Garcia, but she knew Garcia was probably staring at her upon this little question. "I thought we weren't going to talk about that, remember?"

"Oops!" Jack grinned and covered his mouth.

"It's okay, let's just try to remember next time, okay? Why don't you go show Henry how to color inside the lines? You're getting _so_ good at that."

"Okay." Jack hugged Emily once around the neck before running over to the coffee table.

"He saw?" Garcia whispered as she crossed the room to Emily, closing a white knit shawl around her shoulders as she crossed her arms.

Emily rolled her eyes. "Of course. _And_ brought it up in front of, uh…J-E-S-S-I-C-A when he and his dad had dinner with her last night."

"Oh my gosh," Garcia gasped. "Was she super P-O'ed?"

"She already hates the idea of this entire thing. I'm sure she wasn't pleased. He kind of underplayed the whole incident at first, but then he spent the rest of the night in a foul mood, so I don't know. I'm guessing she gave him the third degree, and honestly, I don't blame her. It was such a bad idea. I would have brought you-know-who over but I don't think she'd be too pleased to see me."

Garcia poked her bottom lip out. "I'm sorry there's so much drama, sweet pea. Is there anything else I can do besides taking the kids?"

Emily shrugged but shook her head at the same time. "I don't think there is, but thank you. Just for this. We have some stuff to straighten out."

Garcia frowned. "Is he pushing you?"

"No, he's not pushing. But he's being…I don't know, kind of spiteful, I guess? Cranky? Whatever it is, I don't like it, and it needs to stop. This just underscores what an awful idea it was in the first place, for us to consider a relationship. Listen, I'd love to stay and talk, but—"

"Oh, please. Go, go. We can talk more later."

"Well, Aaron's golfing with Dave in the morning. Wanna come over for coffee or something?"

"It's a date. Now go paint."

"Thanks again, Pen. I'll give you a call when we're finishing up."

Garcia snorted. "Finishing up…Sorry," she said, then waved Emily away.

"Really mature," Emily said with a smirk. "Bye."

—

"What's all this?" Hotch asked with a wrinkled brow when he got into the kitchen with paint and supplies and saw Emily dressed in ratty jeans and an equally ratty t-shirt.

"The kids are all at Garcia's for the rest of the day."

"Why?" he asked, his keys jingling onto the counter top.

"So we can paint. I've already moved and covered furniture with some tarps I found in the garage, so it's ready to go. Shouldn't take us long."

"Oh. Umm, thanks. Let me go get changed."

Emily was already taping off trim and covering up the floor when Hotch got to the nursery in his own jeans and t-shirt.

Without a word, he took a screwdriver to the lid of one of the paint cans he'd carried up and pried it open. "This a good color?" he asked after giving it a good stir. Emily walked over to check it out.

"Looks fine from here. Guess we'll know when it dries." Hotch opened up the primer.

Emily allowed for the process to get well underway before trying any sort of communication with Hotch. All the trim was primed and two whole walls as well (and the last two halfway done) before she spoke. "We need to talk," she finally said.

"Again?"

"Yes, again," Emily said as she poured more primer into her tray.

"What about?" Hotch asked from the other side of the room.

"About how we're going to act around each other. You know, we need each other. We can't expect to raise three impressionable children the right way if we're withdrawn and snippy and spiteful." She decided to use "we're" instead of "you're" to soften the blow. Hotch never reacted well to being attacked.

"I'm stressed. I'm sorry."

"When you're stressed, you should talk to me, not run away from me."

"I didn't run away."

"And what was the sudden trip to the paint store? We never even talked about painting the nursery."

"I told you. I need to keep my mind occupied. I don't do well just lying around."

"Then do a damn crossword puzzle. Please stop insulting my intelligence. I get it. You're upset that things didn't work out the way you wanted. Guess what. They didn't work out the way I wanted them to either. But we have to be adults about this. I can't handle the mood swings and the passive aggressiveness. The…taking off to the damn paint store because you can't handle whatever emotions you're feeling."

"I apologize if it felt like I was being passive aggressive. But it's difficult to hear our situation explained in such simple terms. The way you pretend like the decision we made was so easy, like it didn't matter to you—"

"Of course it matters to me," Emily said, putting down her paint roller. Hotch did the same and they faced each other, but still from several feet away.

"Then you've certainly fooled me into thinking it was an easy decision for you."

"If the decision had been _easy_, then Thursday night _never_ would have went down the way it did. I would have been able to say no before we kissed, and I wouldn't have been so worked up over saying no in the end. Do you seriously think that it was like picking what cereal I wanted for breakfast?"

The fervor with which Emily tore apart Hotch's argument started to make him feel utterly stupid. Of course it hadn't been easy for her. She'd spent seven months without him and he knew, through JJ, that she'd suffered through most of it.

And they had been getting along well before the night they almost kissed after their little conversation out on the porch. They'd been fantastic together. She hadn't been hateful or untrusting like she had the right to be. She cared about him. She wanted this situation to work out in their favor. But most of all, he knew, from the way her brow settled right now, from the way she yelled at him, from the way she'd kissed him—that she was still in love with him.

But therein lay the entire problem. It was this knowledge, deep down inside, the Emily loved him, that kept him from moving on. Maybe if she'd flat-out rejected _him_, instead of just the idea of a relationship—if she'd made it clear that she no longer felt anything for him, then maybe her casual attitude lately wouldn't be so disheartening. But knowing she wanted the same thing he did made it sting every time she referred to their life-altering choice in a way that made it sound so simple, like when she said things like, "ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom." He wished he could keep it from affecting him as much as it did—wished he could somehow turn on a force field like he'd managed to when working on cases with the BAU, to keep the gruesomeness from turning his dreams to nightmares. He wished he could keep Emily's words from burning his ears, keep himself from overanalyzing every single one of them.

"Aaron, say something," Emily said. Hotch realized he'd been staring at the half-gray, half-beige wall behind Emily while he'd been sorting his thoughts.

"I'm sorry I was reactive," he said shamefully. "I didn't mean to cause more drama. I'm just having a harder time handling this than I thought I would. I think that maybe I misled myself."

"How do you mean?" Emily sat down in the tarp-covered rocking chair, the blue plastic crunching underneath her.

"I'd rather not—" Hotch started to say as he turned around to continue painting, but Emily cut his words off.

"Aaron."

"Fine. I wasn't ready for things to turn out this way. That's all. Maybe I'm just jealous that you're accepting it so readily. I'm not used to things affecting me this way. I _want_ to pretend like this isn't a big deal."

"Turn around for a minute," Emily said gently.

Hotch rolled his eyes before obeying.

Emily waited patiently for Hotch to look her in the eye before speaking. "If it makes you feel any better, that's all I'm doing. Pretending. It's just as big of a deal to me as it is to you. It wasn't easy for me to say no. But I had to draw the line between what I want and what's right, because at this point in my life, unfortunately, they're two very different things. Maybe it's easier for me to pretend that this isn't affecting me because I was closer to JJ. I think that I felt like taking her kids was more of a no-brainer than you did. I was her best friend." Tears came sliding down Emily's cheeks out of nowhere and she hastily wiped them away. "I'm not saying I don't trust your intention to see this through, not at all. I think we just came from different places. And not to harp on it, but I already know how to live without the things I want. It's toughened my skin a little. Or maybe it's just that I'm a better actor. I don't know. But I don't want you to feel like garbage. I'm not trying to be all hoity-toity, _look at me_, _I don't have emotions_. I'm just trying to get by."

As much as it helped to know that Emily hadn't been making light of the situation because she truly felt that way, at the same time it just dug the hole a little deeper. She definitely still wanted him. After that little monologue there was no denying it. But now he had to learn to pretend, just like she'd been doing, that the idea of them was a piece of history.

When Hotch didn't say anything, just stared expressionlessly at Emily, she continued. "I don't want to fight with you. I don't want us to have to have these talks every other day. I want things to go smoothly. Like they did the first couple of weeks. Don't you?"

"Of course."

"Then when one of us says something that makes the other feel like shit," Emily said frankly, "the other one just needs to say something. And we need to just…be done with this week. We need to move on. We need to remember our priorities. We're so much better than this. There are parts of this…situation…that are just like the relationship we walked away from. We need to trust each other for one, and I think we're doing all right in that department, but we also need to communicate. Am I right?"

"You're right," Hotch murmured.

Emily couldn't help but grin. "How hard was that?" she asked, getting up to pick up her paint roller again.

"How hard was what?" Hotch asked, turning.

"Saying that I was right."

Hotch chuckled. "It hurt a little," he admitted.

"Just how much?"

Hotch took the lightened energy as permission to turn around and continue working.

"On a scale of one to ten, with one being hard, and ten being the hardest thing you've ever done, how hard was it to say that I was right?" Emily asked as she swooped her roller across the wall again.

"Definitely a fifteen."

"Then taxes will be a breeze. Want to do mine, too?"

"If you really want me to."

Emily laughed. "I think I'm good. I think once the primer's on, we crack open a couple beers and get down to business. Be productive."

"This isn't productive?" Hotch asked.

"Not now," Emily said with the last pass of her roller, and before Hotch could ask her what she meant, she rolled it down the length of his back.

She stepped into the safety of the carpeted hallway, where she knew Hotch wouldn't chase her.

"Was that really necessary?" he rumbled, but in good humor.

"Definitely."

—

"How's it going over there?" Hotch asked from behind his laptop. Emily sat across the dining room table from him behind her own laptop, chin propped up in her hand.

"Ehhh," she said. "I gave up half an hour ago."

"Confused?"

"Mmm, no, just don't really want to know how much I owe Uncle Sam this year."

"You withhold?"

"I told you, I stink at saving. I'm all for instant gratification. I'm not about to give the government an interest-free loan for the year, anyway. That's all that happens when you don't withhold, you know."

"But it also means I'll be getting a nice big check in a few weeks and you'll be digging through the couch cushions to pay what you owe," Hotch said with an exaggerated tone of superiority.

"Hey, I….don't really have a good counterargument."

"Then you best not open your mouth," Hotch mumbled.

"Says the one who said 'All pinks are pretty much the same.'"

"You know I'm a man. We only see about seven colors, and that's on a good day."

"Worst story ever made up by anyone. You have more ties than I think a department store carries at one time. Seriously, who started saying that men don't see as many colors as women? Probably a guy who didn't want to pick paint colors."

"The vast majority of my ties are either red or blue. And if I remember correctly, I very willingly went to pick out paint colors."

"Because you wanted to piss me off and walk away," Emily said with a grin that Hotch couldn't see, but she know he could somehow hear. She wasn't trying to be bitter, and luckily he didn't take it that way.

"True. Want another beer?" he asked, getting up and grabbing their empties.

"One more. Then it's time for another coat. Hey, you know you have paint on your back, right?"

"You know I'm going to shake your beer, right?"

Emily smiled and turned around in her chair. "Hey, hang on."

"What?" Hotch asked, turning around. "Are you seriously shopping for cars right now?" he asked when he saw what she had pulled up on her computer screen.

"Of course, but that's not what I wanted."

"What is it, then?" Hotch asked, leaning against the door frame.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Emily said, biting her lip.

"For painting me?"

"Well, technically I didn't paint you. I primed you so I can paint you later, but that's not what I'm talking about. What I mean is—"

"Don't worry about it," Hotch said seriously. "I feel dumb for being a drama queen about it. That's not like me. I'm sorry."

"I don't think either one of us are acting like ourselves lately, are we?"

Hotch shrugged. "Everything around us has changed. Maybe we're changing too."

**A/N: Please leave a review...you know you want to! :)**


	36. The Last Casserole

**March 2011 (Present Day)**

"Couldn't think of anything a little warmer than golf?" Hotch complained as he and Rossi loaded their clubs into a golf cart.

"Please, it's almost sixty."

"But not quite."

"Still unseasonably warm," Rossi said. "Stop whining. The kids turning you into a whiner?"

Hotch smiled dryly. "Just so you know, it's been a while for me," he said, gazing out onto the golf course.

"Me too. Haven't had a date in months."

Hotch shook his head. "Golf, not sex."

Rossi slapped Hotch on the back as he climbed into the driver's seat. "I know, Hotch. But is that not also true?"

"That I haven't been with anyone in ohhh…" Hotch rolled his eyes up into his head. "…three or four years now? Yes, regrettably."

"I didn't know it had been _that_ long," Rossi marveled. "But thanks for the specifics. I was really wondering."

"Haley and I divorced in oh-eight, but separated before that." Hotch shrugged.

"And you seriously haven't gotten any since then?"

"My career was my wife," Hotch quipped.

"Yeah, well, you divorced that, too. Now you sit behind a desk and stare at the clock all day."

"Well," Hotch said, shrugging again.

"So what's going on with you and Emily?" Rossi asked abruptly.

"You're not one for beating around the bush, are you?" Hotch asked as they approached the tee-off for the first hole.

"Was I ever?" They climbed out of the cart and surveyed the fairway and the winds.

"Guess not," Hotch said. "Seven-iron, you think?"

"Yup. After you."

The conversation stopped while Hotch teed his golf ball, adjusted his stance a few times, and took a couple practice swings.

"You sure you haven't been golfing in a while?" Rossi asked as the ball tapped the ground ten yards from the hole, bouncing along the green that wasn't very green yet.

"Lucky shot," Hotch said dismissively.

Rossi proceeded to hit his ball into the rough thirty yards away from Hotch's. "Dammit. I was just at the driving range."

Hotch chuckled. "Sorry."

"What's your handicap, anyway?"

"Hell if I remember," Hotch said as they got back into the cart and drove down the path toward Rossi's ball.

"So what about you and Emily?" Rossi persisted, purposely driving the cart as slowly as he could. He could see Hotch rolling his eyes and shaking his head out of the corner of his eye. "Relax. It's just me. Are things not going so well?"

"They're fine," Hotch said.

"Not stupendous, just _fine_?"

"Dave, how could things be stupendous? I'm a single guy living under the same roof as a single woman, raising three kids, two of whom are still in diapers, I haven't gotten laid, pardon my French, in years, I probably never will again, and I went to the store this morning to buy diapers and carpet cleaner. Tell me what about that can possibly be stupendous."

"Sounds like you have a family, Aaron. Minus the whole single man, single woman thing, which is what I was really asking about. Is that working out? You guys talked, right?"

"I've honestly lost count of how many times."

"So it took more than once?"

"You gonna swing?" Hotch said, running out of patience and pointing to Rossi's ball.

Rossi gave Hotch a sour look that indicated the conversation was nowhere near over as he dug a wedge from his bag and headed toward his ball, chipping it onto the green on his first try. Hotch joined him to finish out the hole.

"So it's taken more than one 'talk' to straighten things out, has it?" Rossi asked again.

"Yes, but I think they're finally straightened out."

"Walk me through it," Rossi called as he went to swap out his wedge for a putter.

"We're friends, that's all there is to it."

"And who decided that? You or her?"

Hotch loved Rossi, but hated these conversations. The man could see through a brick wall. "We both did," Hotch said confidently, but clearly not confidently enough.

"My ass. You waited for her to say what she needed to say, and it was the 'we can only be friends' bit, and you went along with it because you were too chicken shit to stand up for what you wanted."

"What the hell else was I supposed to do? She's right, you know. And you were right. We can't half-ass it. If either one of us has doubts then it's a bad idea."

"And you have doubts?"

"Me?" Hotch said, trying to buy himself some time while Rossi putted.

"I'm gonna get the truth outta you eventually, Aaron. We have seventeen holes left."

"Doubts about what?"

"About whether you and Emily would last," Rossi said, humoring Hotch's pathetic attempts at stalling.

"I have no doubts about whether I would want to stay with her. I guess that's all I can say."

"So she has doubts."

"Process of elimination and simple logic say yes," Hotch said.

"Then you're doing the right thing."

"I know. Thank you for stating the obvious."

"Sorry. It's not the easy thing, is it?" Rossi said sympathetically.

"Not at all." Although that admission was like peeling the scab off a healing wound, it at least opened up the door for him to be open with Rossi. Within reason, of course.

"I do feel for you, Aaron. I wish there were something I could do. But this is just a crazy situation. I would love to tell you to go for it, to chase her. If there weren't kids involved, I would. I wish things were different for you. I really do."

"Thank you," Hotch said with well-disguised confusion, unsure of whether Rossi was rooting for Team Easy or Team Responsible after all.

"So, back to snooping. Why did it take more than one talk? Did she change her mind? Did you?"

"I spoke up," Hotch said right before putting his ball right around the hole. He sighed. "I should've had that one."

"You're not focused."

"Well, you're drilling me about my love life."

"Hard to concentrate when you got booty on the brain, isn't it?"

Hotch's contagious, rarely heard, drawn-out laugh carried across the morning air further than he had intended. "Sure, something like that," he said, sinking the ball this time.

"So you spoke up?" Rossi asked in an obvious attempt to keep the conversation flowing.

"I told her the truth. I told her I thought we should go for it, that things were supposed to happen this way, that it was the only option that made sense."

"You grew a pair. Good for you. What did she say?"

Hotch and Rossi were back in the golf cart and on their way to the second hole. _Am I really only one-eighteenth done with this conversation_? he wondered in despair. He seriously debated giving Rossi the whole story, telling him about how things had felt so perfect, telling him about the near kiss, about the actual kiss (maybe even both of them, not just the most recent one), about everything. He still had Morgan and Reid as friends, but neither of them had ever been very close to him while he was at the BAU anyway. Rossi was always the closest he had to a best friend. "She turned me down again."

"There's something you're not telling me."

"We…didn't keep things strictly platonic," Hotch confessed.

"Couldn't make it three weeks without sleeping with her? Dammit, Aaron." Rossi sounded genuinely frustrated now.

"We didn't sleep together. We just…now this sounds stupid. We just kissed."

"How is that stupid? Some people, myself included, find a good kiss to be more intimate than sex."

"I find that hard to believe, Dave. Very hard to believe. Coming from you…"

"Hey," Rossi said, wagging a finger at Hotch. "I said more intimate, not better. So, how was it?" he asked as they cruised along.

Hotch shook his head and stared out the other side of the cart.

"Come on, first kiss. Fireworks, or nothing?"

"Wasn't the first," Hotch said with a sigh. He owed it to Rossi to be honest. And he knew Emily had discussed this matter with Garcia. That much was clear, and he wasn't angry with it. Surely she couldn't be angry with him for talking to Rossi about it. Though he hadn't realized it until now, he very much needed to talk to someone of the same sex.

"When was the first?"

"The night I signed my divorce papers. Which…to me…is essentially when it became official. The papers hadn't been turned in yet, but as far as Haley and I were concerned, it had been over long ago but that day, when I signed the papers, it was official. To us."

"An innocent man doesn't defend his actions this much before he's even been accused of anything," Rossi said wisely. "What'd you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Kissing someone the night you sign your divorce papers, when you've legally divorced someone you emotionally divorced a long time ago—that's not really a crime punishable by death. What's the big deal? Was it more than just a peck on the lips?"

"Let's make something clear," Hotch said. "What team are you on, anyway?"

"Team? You mean whose side?"

"No, not whose side. Not my side or Emily's side. But as far as things go between me and her. One second you sound like I'm a coward for not pursuing it. The next, you're saying it's smart of us not to get involved."

"I wasn't aware you were seeking my advice," Rossi said.

"I wasn't, really, but you seemed ready to give it."

"You want my advice?"

"If you have any that isn't contradictory, sure. Doesn't mean I'll take it, though."

"Of course it doesn't. You hardly take advice from yourself."

Hotch grinned as they finally pulled up to the tee-off for the second hole on the course. "As long as we have that understanding, fire away."

Rossi waited politely for Hotch to shoot first again. "I don't think I actually know what to tell you, Aaron."

"That's fine, because I think I have the right idea."

"And what's that?"

"I had my chance with her and I blew it. I could have had her before. And maybe if the circumstances were more favorable now, I'd have another shot. But I don't think I do. I think all I can do is be the best friend I can be to her, and the best dad I can be to the kids. And hope that someday I can be satisfied with that."

"Because obviously you're not satisfied with that right now," Rossi said.

"Let's just say that when it comes to her, I'll take what I can get."

"So you're settling."

Hotch wasn't sure whether Rossi was judging or merely stating fact. "What else am I supposed to do? I mean, yeah, I could walk away, but on top of never being able to forgive myself for abandoning them, I wouldn't have her at all."

"And you're okay with the fact that you'll probably never be more than friends?"

"Like I said, I have to be." Hotch said this with a heavy heart but a light voice. From now on, he decided, no one else would have to know how hard this was for him. Everyone was better off that way.

—

"Hey," Emily called from the couch when she heard Hotch come inside through the garage door.

"Hey," he called back as he crouched down to take his shoes off. "Did Garcia already leave?"

"Yeah, just a little while ago," Emily said, turning her head away from a book she was reading, to watch Hotch enter the living room. She wanted to see if she could guess from his face how well his game had gone.

"Have a nice visit?" he asked brightly enough, stopping at the bottom of the stairs on his way up to change.

Emily smiled. "Yeah. Have a nice game, or round, or whatever?"

"Very."

"Who won?"

"Well, I haven't played in so long that I don't remember my handicap, and after all this time it wouldn't be valid anyway, so there's really no way of knowing…"

Emily spotted the slight grin on Hotch's face. "You spanked him, didn't you?"

Hotch chuckled. "Everything's relative. Dave was having an off day, so I don't really know."

"Yeah, whatever," Emily said with a smirk that said she wasn't convinced of Hotch's humility. "Glad you had a good time."

"Thanks. Where are the kids?"

"The boys are either building or destroying something with Legos upstairs. Baby's sleeping in my room."

"Want to lay on one last coat of paint?"

"Sure." Emily closed her book and followed Hotch upstairs. "And I was thinking for dinner, we could have casserole."

"Sounds good," Hotch said unenthusiastically.

"It's the last one," Emily said.

"What's the last what?" Hotch stopped in front of Emily's room.

"The last casserole. The last anything. All the stuff the guys cooked for us."

"Seriously? It's gone already?"

"It's been three weeks," she reminded him.

"Yeah, but…that was a ton of food."

Emily grinned. "I know, and we still cooked for ourselves half the time. Which means we ate more than we thought."

"Family of five goes through a lot more food than a family of two, I guess," Hotch said.

"And that's counting Charlotte, who doesn't eat any of it yet."

Hotch frowned. "Do we need to put the family on a diet?"

"I went out a notch on my belt buckle," Emily admitted. "I love my meat and cheese, but yeah. I think we might want to lay off anything that's cooked all in one pan, or find ways to cook that kind of stuff without all the fat and salt." She shamelessly patted her stomach. Hotch just laughed. "What? You haven't gained weight, too?"

"What, do I look like I have?" Hotch challenged her.

"Well, I don't know." Emily frowned and motioned for Hotch to turn around.

"No, tell me now. Do I look fatter to you?" he said, amused.

"Not fatt_er_," Emily specified with a wicked smirk, studying Hotch's figure.

"Nice double standard we have going here," Hotch muttered under his breath.

"What do you mean?"

"You can stand here and call me fat, but I'm not allowed to comment on your weight…_Not_ that I have anything to comment about," he added hastily.

"See? It's hard-wired into you. If I gained twenty pounds overnight, you wouldn't be able to say a thing."

"You're right."

"But for the record, I never called you fat."

"You implied," Hotch argued.

"No, you inferred. I was just joking."

Hotch smiled and shook his head. "If it makes you feel any better," he said as he started to walk away, "I had to leave early this morning to go to the mall and buy the pants I'm wearing." He stopped at his doorway and smiled only with his eyes.

"Yours didn't fit?"

"Nope."

"That makes me feel a lot better. Let the big-butt jokes begin."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! As always, I'd love to hear what you think, so please leave a review (long or short, account or no account)  
**


	37. Nudity

**A/N: Everybody likes fluff, right? Good, because things are going to be very fluffy for a while. Thanks for all the reviews last time around!**

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

"Hey," Emily said to Hotch when she heard him passing by her open bedroom door on a Saturday morning.

"Yeah?" Hotch stopped and peeked inside. Emily was changing Henry's diaper—at least, trying to.

"Are you sure you bought fives?" she asked, tugging at the sides of the diaper. Henry whined when she secured it too tightly for his liking.

"Yeah. They don't fit? Already?"

"I swear, yesterday they fit just fine."

"Maybe that one's defective," Hotch said with a frown.

"Well, hand me another one. But I think he's going through a growth spurt, to be honest. He's been eating a lot. And he seems like he's gotten a lot taller lately."

"Hindsight's always twenty-twenty," Hotch said with a smirk, swapping clean diapers with Emily. But the new one was just as small. Emily looked up at Hotch, sighed, and shrugged. "I guess you have to run back and get some sixes for this big boy."

"Wait," Hotch said raised eyebrows, smiling just enough for his dimples to show. "I went and bought diapers yesterday. On my way home from work. When I had all three kids."

"And I would have gone, but I got caught up at work. I know, I'm sorry," Emily said, strapping on the too-small diaper and putting Henry's pants back on him. She released him and he trotted to his and Jack's bedroom.

"Still your turn," Hotch said.

Emily rolled her eyes. "All right, all right. Wanna split up the kids for a bit? You need to go get your car detailed before we bring it in to the dealership."

"All right. Who do you want?"

Emily smiled and patted her thighs as she walked downstairs, Hotch following behind. "I haven't gotten much time with Jack lately. Mind if I take him?"

"Sounds good."

—

"Where are we?" Jack asked Emily as he climbed out of his booster seat. He habitually grabbed her hand before walking away from the car and across the parking lot.

"We're at the book store. Want to pick out a book while we're here?"

"Yeah!" he answered, nodding eagerly. He started to run and tried to pull Emily along with him.

"Hey, slow it down there. No running in the parking lot." Jack must have had a nose for the children's section, because he found it before Emily did. "Hang on one second," she said. "I need you to stay with me. We can go look for a book for you in a minute but I need to find a book first. Deal?"

"Okay," Jack said with a little pout.

"Don't be so bummed. It'll only take a minute." Emily skimmed over the aisle markers until she found the parenting aisle.

"What book are you getting?" Jack asked.

"We…" Emily said, trailing off for a moment until she found what she needed. "…are going to potty train Henry so he can go on the potty like a big boy."

"Like me," Jack said proudly.

"Exactly."

Happy that he'd impressed Emily, Jack waited patiently while she selected a couple of books. She added _What to Expect the First Year_ and _What to Expect the Toddler Years_ for good measure. She smiled devilishly at the thought of replacing Hotch's typical mystery bedtime hardcover with one of these, picturing his reaction.

"Okay, time to go pick out your book," Emily said sweetly, gesturing Jack back toward the children's section.

"Emily…" Jack said tensely.

Emily looked down to see Jack holding his hands between his legs.

"Uh oh. Gotta go?"

"Uh-huh."

Emily glanced around in all directions. "Over there," she said quickly. "Come on, let's move it."

"But you said no running," Jack said worriedly as he ran to keep up with Emily.

"You have my permission to run this one time," Emily said. "Do you want me to come in with you?"

"Uh-huh," Jack panted as he ran ahead of Emily.

"Other one, sweetie. I can't go in the men's room with you."

—

"Good, you're back," Hotch said when Emily walked in the door with Jack. "Diaper. Now."

"What's going on?" Emily asked, handing over a plastic bag with the new diapers in it. "We had a whole thing of them. I mean, yeah, they were too small, but—"

"He won't keep it on," Hotch said in a somewhat panicky voice.

"He won't—" A huge smile spread across Emily's face as a naked Henry came sprinting through the kitchen. She hid the smile right away. Jack just watched wide-eyed at Henry's strange behavior. "Oh my God, I really hope it's just because the diaper was too small. Put a new one on him, quick," Emily said.

"Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Yeah, buddy," Hotch said as he tried to chase down Henry, who now squealed in delight at being hunted.

"Why is Henry naked?"

"Because he didn't like his diaper. Or his shirt, apparently," Hotch said.

Emily stifled a laugh when Hotch finally caught Henry in one arm. He took the bag of diapers into the living room with him and Emily and Jack followed.

"I really hope he's not going to go through a streaking phase," Emily said, the humor of the situation beginning to wear off when she realized the possible consequences of such a thing.

"Let's hope not," Hotch said. He thanked Emily when she tore open the bag and handed him a fresh size six diaper. Deciding that after having had fought Henry on the nudity issue for half an hour already, getting him to stay in a diaper would count as a victory, Hotch let him run off without putting his clothes back on him.

"You didn't laugh at him, did you?" Emily said.

"The first couple of times," Hotch said helplessly. "I couldn't help it. It was funny."

"Well, that probably encouraged him," Emily said.

"I'm sure we can undo that if we look upset instead."

"Yeah…" Emily replied distantly. "Did you get your car detailed?"

"All ready to go."

"Think maybe we should stick around here for a bit to make sure Henry the exhibitionist keeps his diaper on?"

Hotch checked his watch. "We're cutting it close on time. I'd like to have as much time as possible to look around."

"Why do I have the feeling that car shopping with you is going to be H-E-double hockey sticks?"

Hotch grinned briefly. "Because you have good instincts."

"You sure you don't want to just do it on your own? We already know what we're getting…"

"No, we all need to be there. I want to make sure everyone fits comfortably, take it for a test drive with everyone in it. What's in that other bag?" Hotch asked once he spotted Emily's bag from the bookstore.

"Oh, just a few things I thought we ought to read, and something for Jack because he behaved while we were out."

"Oh, let me pay you back for his—"

"Don't even think about it. Here," Emily said, reaching into the bag and handing him the _What to Expect_ books. "I figured we could each read one and swap."

"In case you haven't noticed," Hotch said, watching Jack with amusement as he dug in the bag to get his own book, "I have raised one child already."

Emily gave Hotch a sardonic look, hoping he wouldn't be offended.

"Okay, Haley raised him. All right. I'll take the toddler one, you take the baby one. What else is in there?"

Emily winced in anticipation of Hotch's reaction. "Given that we have a two-and-a-half-year-old who might be done with the whole diaper thing, I thought we could try to potty train him. And I thought a book might not be a bad idea."

"Do you learn everything from books?" Hotch said, raising his eyebrows.

"How much do you remember from potty training Jack?"

"Not much besides how every time he wet the bed when I was home, I was guilted into cleaning up," Hotch said with a straight face. "All right, well, let's…not think about this today. We already have enough on our plates."

"Fair enough." Just then, Henry came tearing through the living room as fast as his little legs would carry him, his butt bare for all the world to see. "Oh, joy."

—

"Kind of tempting," Hotch admitted to Emily as they walked the used car lot with a salesman, right past a black Suburban.

"We have three kids, not five plus a giant dog, and a speedboat" Emily said quickly. "Don't even think about it. We already decided on an a Tahoe, even though I wanted something with better gas mileage. I've compromised enough. A Suburban is way too big. No." She smiled when she realized how wife-like she sounded, and how Hotch didn't seem to mind.

"Can we still get it in black?" Hotch asked with a grin, switching Henry over to his other side. They'd decided the best way to keep Henry dressed was not to put him down.

"If that will make you feel important again," Emily said lightheartedly, rolling her eyes.

"Well, we'll see what they have here," Hotch said.

"Well, there you go," Emily said. "Black Tahoe, right there."

"Shh," Hotch whispered, eying the salesman, who walked ahead of them. "We can't be that easy of a sell."

"Oh my God," Emily moaned. "I so should have stayed home."

—

"Stop making him run back and forth," Emily hissed as their salesman walked to the back office to "talk to his manager" for the third time about the price of the SUV and the value of their trade-in.

"It's all part of the process. Have you never bought a car before?"

"Yes, and I gave them my price and they met it. You need to stop pushing it."

"You won't say that after I save us three grand. Cash is king at a dealership," Hotch mumbled. Twenty minutes later, Hotch managed to do just that. Their salesman was in the back getting paperwork ready while the five of them waited patiently.

"Oh my goodness," a friendly female voice said from behind them. She circled around to see them all straight on. "_Look_ at that blonde hair, ohh, and those precious blue eyes," she marveled, looking down at Charlotte.

Emily cast Hotch a furtive, awkward glance. The look on his face told her he didn't quite know how to react either.

"She's beautiful," said the woman, whom Emily suddenly recognized as the receptionist who'd greeted them when they'd arrived.

"Oh, thank you," Emily said.

"Where on earth did she get that blonde hair?"

"Well, not from either one of us," Emily said with a smile. "We're just legal guardians for her and the little boy."

"What about the older one?" the woman asked, smiling at Jack, who hid behind his dad.

"He's mine," Hotch said.

"Not yours, though?" she prodded, eying Emily suspiciously.

"Oh, no," Emily said. "We're friends."

"Oh, is that right? Oh, I think I hear the phone ringing. You folks have a nice day," she said without a fraction of the friendliness she'd shown before.

Once she'd walked away, Emily turned her face slowly toward Hotch's, her mouth dropping open. "Did she just…"

"Snub us because we're living together with three kids and we're not in a relationship? Yes," Hotch said quietly.

"What a…" Emily stopped and just growled under her breath. "Do people seriously act like that? _Seriously_?"

Hotch saw the deep hurt in Emily's eyes and, though he hadn't really taken offense to the woman's attitude, the fact that Emily had taken offense made his blood boil. "We can take our business elsewhere. Let's go."

"No, no. Let's just get this over with. It's not a big deal," Emily lied. "Being judged for the way you live by a total stranger, no worries. I've dealt with worse."

"Hey," Hotch said softly, moving his head until he caught Emily's wandering eyes.

"It's seriously not a big deal. I have dealt with worse. She just caught me off guard."

"We don't have to stay a minute longer. I'm serious. There are plenty of other dealerships around. We don't have to decide this today."

"Aaron, I'm fine, I promise." Emily gave Hotch a fleeting smile and then distracted herself with the baby. Hotch suppressed his nagging urge to touch Emily. He knew she was putting up a front, but he also grasped that she wasn't _that_ hurt, or at least wouldn't be after some cooling off. He entertained the notion of writing the dealership a nasty letter, but he knew himself well enough to realize that in time his temper would die off and he would see that in the grand scheme of things, the receptionist's reaction was of little importance. They were doing the best that they could with what they had, and he couldn't let a stranger's attitude affect him, or Emily, for that matter. So he would let her downplay her feelings until, inevitably, she would cool down just like him.

—

"Your turn," Emily said wryly later that night as Henry entered the room bottomless once again, his diaper and jeans likely abandoned somewhere else in the house.

"Okay, I'm on board with the potty-training thing," Hotch said as he got up from the couch, where he and Emily had been flipping channels while the boys now played on the floor. He went off in search of the missing diaper and pants and came back a minute later. "You think we're ready for this?" Hotch asked.

"We might want to read up on it a little first," Emily said. "We're both basically beginners."

"Yeah, but…we've had them for two months and haven't messed up majorly yet. And people have been potty-training for ages without books," Hotch said as he re-dressed Henry, who didn't put up a fight for the time being.

"You making fun of me for buying parenting books?" Emily said with a sardonic grin.

"What? No, not at all. We're no less parents just because we're not married. You know that. I know what the receptionist said struck a chord with you, and she did with me too, to be honest, but she doesn't know anything about us."

Emily nodded. "I know," she said honestly. She appreciated Hotch's support more than she could say, so she didn't try to verbalize her gratitude. "Let's start tomorrow. He seems ready. We don't have to change him often and he's obviously fed up with diapers. And honestly, who can blame him? We just need a potty chair for him." She saw Hotch's smirk as he set Henry free again and reclaimed his seat on the other end of the couch, leaving the middle cushion between him and Emily unoccupied. "What?" Emily asked.

"Nothing."

Emily thought for a moment and caught Hotch's drift. "You never thought you'd hear me say the 'potty chair,' did you?"

Hotch chuckled and shook his head.

**A/N: Please review if you have a moment! Thanks for reading.  
**


	38. Release

**April 2011**

Hotch brought Charlotte downstairs and passed her off to Garcia, who took her with a big, toothy smile. "You're sure you'd rather watch three kids than pack up some stuff?" Hotch asked in disbelief.

"Oh my goodness, are you kidding? I look for opportunities to get the munchkins all to myself. Go get their things from JJ's and let me know if you need anything."

"Thank you," Hotch said, heading outside to meet Emily, who waited in the SUV in preparation for bringing more of the kids' things home.

"Ready?" she asked as he buckled into the passenger seat.

"Are you?" Hotch asked.

Emily offered Hotch a half-hearted smile before backing out of the driveway.

**June 2009**

"No, don't get up," Emily said hastily when she let herself into Hotch's apartment and punched the code into the alarm system. After she'd been the one to discover he'd been stabbed nearly to death in his apartment by George Foyet over a week ago, Hotch had given her her own key. She still hadn't figured out what to make of that.

He'd been home from the hospital for two days now and still had three weeks before he was expected to be cleared for work again. Clad in sweatpants and a t-shirt, he nodded in gratitude and lay back down on The Couch, a cringe crossing his face as he did so.

Emily looked on, worried and helpless. There really wasn't anything she could do for him in terms of pain relief. He had his nice cocktail of medication already. His wounds would just take time to heal. "Still not doing so well?" she asked gently, stepping slowly toward the couch where Hotch cautiously lowered himself again. He didn't answer.

"When's the last time you took something?" Emily asked, dropping her purse in a chair and walking to the kitchen counter to look through the five different bottles of pills.

"I don't remember," Hotch said. "Don't worry about it."

"Come on. That's why you have them. You don't need to show off for anyone." Emily read the labels carefully, looking for one that didn't have an extreme drowsiness warning on it. She shook a couple of horse pills into her hand and got Hotch a glass of water.

"I told you, don't worry about it," Hotch protested when Emily handed him the pills and water. "I'm fine."

"Come on, are you kidding me? Don't be such a macho man."

"If I take them, will you stop pestering me?" Hotch asked somewhat testily.

"Yes." Satisfied, Emily proffered the pills and water and sat on the end of the couch. While Hotch acquiesced to her nagging, she stared straight ahead of her at the blank television screen.

"How are things at work?"

"Fine," Emily said. "What did you do all day?"

"Slept," Hotch murmured, putting down his glass and leaning back into the couch again.

"All day?"

Hotch cleared his throat and nodded.

"Doesn't that kind of screw you over for sleeping at night?"

"I don't sleep at night," Hotch said simply.

"Oh," Emily said softly. "But you did at the hospital."

"George Foyet didn't show up at the hospital."

Emily sighed and looked over at Hotch, who was looking at the television too. From what she could gather, he couldn't force himself to sleep at all at first, but eventually the lack of sleep caught up with him and he probably happened to pass out during the day, reversing his sleep schedule.

"Maybe you shouldn't stay here," Emily said. "I mean, this place is...obviously scary for you." She glanced at the strategically placed rug that covered up the blood stains the carpet cleaners hadn't been able to get out.

"It's not scary," Hotch said flatly. The lack of emotion in his voice over the past few days was beginning to wear down on Emily. Sure, he was normally calm and collected. But they had gotten to a point in their friendship—at least, she thought—where he was his actual self around her and he was letting on that his work demeanor was just a façade. He truly was kind and gentle, even if he tried not to show it at work. But his attitude as of late hadn't shown either of his typical faces. He just seemed empty, devoid of motivation, feeling, purpose. The tears he'd shed when he'd watched the video of Jack when he was in the hospital were the last Emily had seen him cry.

Resigned to the fact that Hotch had every right to act however the hell he wanted right now, Emily sighed quietly and looked around the room. Then she spotted his Glock on the end table by his head.

"Apartment's not scary, huh?" Emily picked.

He knew exactly what she was referring to. "Just being sensible." Flat again.

"Can I get a rise out of you at all? Seriously…talk to me. You're bottling everything up and it's not good for you."

Hotch shook his head slowly while he struggled to sit up. Emily considered reprimanding him, but she knew she wouldn't get anywhere with him by bossing him around. He already felt powerless, emasculated. He didn't need a woman picking at him like she was his mother.

"Do you need anything?" Emily asked. "Something to eat…?"

"No, thanks. I'm fine."

Emily drew a deep breath. "You still have a life to live, you know. I know you think your life…_rode away_ in that black car at the hospital, but it didn't. Jack and Haley will be fine, and you need to concentrate on getting better on catching that son of a bitch."

"How can I do that if I can't leave my couch?" Hotch murmured.

"I'll bring you the files myself," she said, knowing that idleness was his worst enemy right now. He was a brooder. He had too much about which to brood. She needed to distract him, point his frustrations in a productive direction. "Just…_do_ something with yourself. Not to make it about me, but it kills me to see you like this. At least be angry or sad. You don't have to be happy. I know you're not happy. But let it out. Throw something across the room. Yell at me. Tell me I'm bugging the shit out of you."

"You _are_ bugging the shit out of me," Hotch said dryly.

Emily's face opened up in triumph. "See? There. Tell me I'm annoying and that you want me to leave."

"You're annoying and I want you to leave."

"With more feeling," Emily said eagerly, patting Hotch on the knee as she scooted over toward him.

"You're annoying," Hotch grumbled.

"And?"

"And I want you to leave," he said firmly, his eyes boring holes into hers.

She smiled. "I'm not going anywhere. But tell me more."

He shook his head at first, seemingly done With Emily's little game. She waited patiently for him to break. "I feel like it was my fault," he cracked.

_Progress._ "Why?"

Hotch's face screwed up, absolutely out of nowhere. "Because I didn't make the deal." He drew in a deep breath and regained most of his composure, rolling his eyes into the back of his head to ward off the tears.

"Hey, we _talked_ about this. The only way to _ever _catch him is to chase him. If you would've made the deal with him, then he'd just wait for you to kick the bucket and he'd go out again."

"He's not much younger than me," Hotch said, his sinuses plugged up. "And it's not like I'm going to die anytime soon. Not of natural causes anyway. I should have taken the deal. It would have made sense. But I had to try and play the hero. I should've taken the deal. I should have."

"And let a _serial killer_ run loose?" Emily practically shouted.

"He said he'd stop," Hotch shot back. "And he did the first time. He waited ten years until Shaunessy died."

"And what if he'd decided not to keep his word with you? What if you'd willingly stopped hunting him and he _still _killed more people?"

Tears spilled forth from Hotch's eyes and down his stubbly cheeks. "Then at least he wouldn't be after Haley and Jack," he managed to utter.

"Good, this is good," Emily said gently. She rubbed slow circles around Hotch's back. "Let it out."

Hotch sniffed and shook his head, pulling himself up off the couch by its arm.

"Whoa, slow down," Emily said when Hotch's back stiffened in protest.

"I'm fine."

"Just take it easy," Emily whispered. "Where are you going?"

"To put some jeans on. I need to get out of here for a while."

"Okay…" Emily got up and watched Hotch walk toward his bedroom.

"I'll be right out," he said. Emily found it difficult to wait the few minutes it took Hotch to get dressed. But eventually he re-emerged. "Is it nice outside?" he asked, peeking through the blinds and into the remaining sunlight.

"It's gorgeous out."

"How about dinner?" he suggested.

"Dinner sounds great. Let's go."

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

Hotch packed a plastic bin full of Henry's toys and toted it to the front door. Emily had separated from him to go to another room about an hour ago. With Henry and Charlotte's things now packed and ready to go, Hotch wondered what Emily had been doing to occupy herself. He found her in Will and JJ's living room. Though in a moment of exhaustion and desperation a few days prior, he'd called and hired someone to come and do some light cleaning, the place still looked like it hadn't been lived in for ages. Emily looked rather out of place sitting on the couch.

"Hey," he said. Her head popped up like she'd been caught doing something she ought not to be doing.

"Oh, hi," she sighed. "Sorry." Her eyes wee bloodshot and puffy; black smudges circled them.

"For what? What's the matter?"

"I just…" Emily shook her head and picked up a picture frame. "I was packing away their pictures and I found this one and I just…I lost it. I only worked down here for about twenty minutes. I've just been…sitting here."

Hotch said down cautiously next to Emily and reached for the picture frame. It was a picture of her, Garcia, and JJ, taken at the office Christmas party a year and a half ago. Hotch remembered that year's party quite well, as it had only been a couple of months since Haley's death. Emily had forced Hotch to come, even though everyone would have understood had he chosen to skip it and spend the time with Jack instead. She'd insisted he needed some recreational time without Hot Wheels involved.

While he studied the picture, Emily wrung her hands in her lap and her eyes dropped to the floor. Uncertain whether such a gesture would be welcome, Hotch set the picture down and pulled her tentatively into his arms. He tried not to breathe a sigh of relief when she wrapped her arms around him in return. Three tiny gasps spelled the beginning of another crying bout, which, now that Hotch thought about it, he hadn't heard from her since a week after JJ and Will's deaths. Her cries made it sound like she was being strangled, but Hotch knew she was purposely choking them back. "You're allowed to cry, you know."

Emily nodded against Hotch's shoulder, low moans escaping her throat, and warmth flowing through her body at the touch of his firm hands gliding up and down her back. "I just never have time to," she muttered after a loud sniffle.

"Kids will do that to you, won't they?" Hotch said, a smile to his voice, but his face anything but lighthearted. Of course he missed JJ and Will (but JJ especially) himself, and he was devastated for her children, who would grow up without knowing their parents, but it was Emily's meltdown that was getting to him the most. He didn't think he could smile if he tried.

"I miss her so much. I feel awful. I thought at first that I'd cry myself to sleep for weeks, but I get in bed now and I'm usually asleep before my head hits the pillow. I hardly get a chance to think about her."

"Because you're raising her kids," Hotch said. "Which is what she wanted you to do. I know it sounds cliché, but you know it's true—she wouldn't want you to cry yourself to sleep every night. You're putting your energy into something far better." Emily didn't argue; she just clung to him like a sleepy child. So he waited until she was ready to let go.

"Do you think it would be awful if we hired a service for the estate sale? I don't think I have it in me…"

"That's why there are professionals. I think it's a good idea. We already ditched the kids for the day to come get what we needed. I think we should use as much of our free time as we can to be with them, not to be doing things we don't need to do. I'll give someone a call when we get home."

"Okay." Emily was wiping at her cheeks when she backed away from Hotch, who rubbed her upper am.

"You gonna be okay?"

"I will be, yeah." Emily's mouth straightened into a thin line and she nodded. "Thank you."

"Of course. Let's finish this up and go home."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review :)**


	39. Crap

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

Garcia was chasing a naked Henry around the living room when Hotch and Emily got back for the day.

"Uh oh," Emily muttered.

"I'm so, so sorry," Garcia squeaked. "He just keeps taking all his clothes off. I've put them back on at least three times. I don't know what else to do…"

Emily turned to Hotch. "You didn't warn her about the streaking thing?"

"Hmm…I don't remember," Hotch said with a shrug. He was plainly not trying to hide his guilt, but wasn't going to admit to his neglect either.

"He told me about the potty training, not about the streaking," Garcia said, giving up and letting Henry run into the kitchen.

Emily rolled her eyes and punched Hotch in the stomach.

"Excuse me," he said after a surprised grunt, then laughing.

"If you pull that _crap_ when we need a babysitter who isn't already our friend, we're never going to keep one. You need to warn people."

"Cap!" Henry yelled as he flew back into the living room. "Cap cap cap!"

"What's he saying?" Hotch asked.

"Oh my God," Emily gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. "He copied me. Oh, sh—da—what is the appropriate word in this situation, one he can repeat without us getting reported to social services?"

"Relax," Garcia said. "He doesn't have the _r_ in there. No one will know. And it's not even a real swear word anyway."

"Henry, come here," Emily said sweetly, sitting down on the couch.

He trotted happily over to her and climbed into her lap. Hotch and Garcia exchanged amused glances.

"Did you go on the potty for Auntie Penny?"

"Nuh-uh."

"How come?"

Henry shrugged. "He only went once in his diaper, though. That's good, right?" Garcia said with an uncertain face.

"Yeah, the less frequently he goes, the more ready he is. But we've only been trying for a week and we already went twice! Right, buddy?" Emily said, hugging Henry close to her chest.

"Uh-huh."

"You need to let me put your clothes back on you now, all right?" she said. She thanked her lucky stars when Henry let her redress him without a fuss.

"Where are the other two?" Hotch asked Garcia.

"Jack's up in his room, coloring, last time I checked. And the baby is fast asleep. How did things go at Will and JJ's?"

Hotch's cursory glance at an unaware Emily didn't go unnoticed by Garcia. "Fine. We brought home a lot."

"Nuh uh. What's the matter?" Garcia asked.

"What's the matter with what?" Emily asked, oblivious to Hotch's non-verbal allusion to her little meltdown and JJ and Will's house.

"It was just a little sad, is all, going through all their things," Hotch explained. "But we're all done."

"Good. Need help unpacking?"

"I think it can wait until tomorrow," Emily said. "None of it's essentials, obviously."

"Would you mind if I took Jack out for some ice cream?" Hotch muttered to Emily, not wanting to catch the attention of Henry, who was still ambling about the room, picking up as many toys as he could carry.

Emily looked at him strangely. "Why would I mind? He's _your_ unfortunate offspring."

"Well, I don't want to just take off…I was just trying to be polite," Hotch said with a straight face. "Now if you're done picking on me…"

Emily laughed. "Have fun. Bring me back something. And this little guy. And Garcia."

"Oh, not me. Kevin and I have a date in an hour. Can't stay much longer."

"All right, well, thanks again, Garcia. You sure we can't pay—"

"Don't even talk about money to me," Garcia said. Hotch smiled at her before leaving the room.

Garcia and Emily didn't speak until Hotch and Jack were out of the house a few minutes later. Henry played contentedly (and fully clothed) on the floor.

"Did you _hit_ him?" Garcia asked incredulously, her mouth opened wide, but smiling.

"What?" Emily walked into the kitchen to find something for a late dinner for herself.

"You totally hit Hotch."

"Oh, that? Yeah, he deserved it," Emily said nonchalantly.

"You are so like an old married couple. I love it." Emily backed out of the refrigerator and gave Garcia a warning glare. "What? I'm not allowed to notice that you hit him?"

"It's the allusions to us as a couple that aren't allowed," Emily said.

"Oh, come on, I didn't mean it that way," Garcia said, taking a seat on a bar stool at the island. "But if you take out the romantic aspect, it's kind of dead-on, don't you think? I mean, you have amazing chemistry, you're raising kids together, supporting each other, you share cars, you live together, you do basically everything together except anything that involves being naked. And you physically abuse him."

Garcia's frankness broke down Emily's walls a little. "I guess."

"Has the platonic thing been working out? No more angst?"

"It's been fine," Emily said. "No angst on my side, anyway. I'm actually quite happy this way. Sure, it would be great if we could be together, but I think I'm pretty blessed to have what I have. I really am happy." After much browsing, the only suitable thing she found in the fridge was a jar of jelly. Garcia smiled, impressed, while she watched Emily make herself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich in ten seconds flat.

"You make PB and J like a pro, my love."

"I basically _am_ a pro, except that I don't get paid," Emily said with a mouthful of her sandwich.

"Can I…ask you something?" Garcia asked as Emily pulled up a stool and sat across from her.

"Go for it," Emily said, mouth still full.

"Are you lonely?"

"Lonely?"

"You know, like…romantically."

Emily closed her eyes and rolled them behind her lids. "I don't have the ideal situation for a love life, so it doesn't matter what I want."

"Yes, it does. Maybe Captain America isn't Mr. Right at all. Maybe there's someone else out there—and someone who would be willing to work with—"

"I'm serious, it's fine, Pen. Even if I wanted a sex life—"

"_You don't want a sex life_?"

Emily took another bite of her sandwich. "That's been the last thing on my mind for a while."

"Oh, come on," Garcia said. It was obvious that she felt Emily was trying to slip one past her. "Like you've never thought about what would have happened that night with Hotch if the phone didn't ring. _In detail. _Or what it would be like to just waltz into his room one night and have your way with him, even though you know you can't."

Emily gave Garcia the stink eye, but grinned anyway. "Stuff like that doesn't count. It doesn't mean I actually _want_ a sex life right now. And we need to start spelling. Henry's walking in here and he doesn't need to add S-E-X to his vocabulary for a few years yet."

"Why wouldn't you want one?" Garcia asked with one of her signature pouts.

"It's been a long time since I've wanted one in a generic sense. With you-know-who, yeah, sure. I've thought about it. A lot. But with just anyone? No."

"Why on earth not? You are in your _prime_, sweetheart."

Emily shook her head as she polished off the rest of her sandwich. "You still have half your weekend left."

"And?"

"The answer to your question is a weekend-ruiner, especially for someone sensitive like you."

"You honestly think you're going to get rid of me that easily?" Garcia asked. "I can handle it. Tell me. Is this some other secret that only Hotch knows?"

Emily eyed Garcia to gauge whether the truth would offend her. Not that Emily was planning on lying, but she needed to know whether she should sugarcoat the fact that she had yet another defining moment in her life that she had shared with Hotch but not Garcia. But the look on Garcia's face was only one of concern for Emily, not of offense. "Yeah," Emily answered.

"Tell me."

"I'm serious, Pen. It's something you're better off not knowing."

Garcia reached across the counter and snatched up Emily's hand. "It's something that affects you. Something that gives you an aversion to something you should want. It's obviously something bad, and it concerns you. And I love you. This is something I need to know."

Yet again, Emily felt the guilt of not having been more open with JJ. But she had to remind herself that she couldn't change the decisions she'd made concerning JJ. What was done was done. It would be more of a disrespect to JJ's passing than anything else if Emily were to make the same mistake again with Garcia.

Emily stroked her thumb over the back of Garcia's hand, looking at the counter top while she spoke. "When I was abducted in L.A., I was…" She stopped and glanced over the side of the counter and saw Henry looking expectantly up at her. She smiled and waved at him. He hid his face behind his hands for a moment, then ran away.

"You were…" Garcia urged, clearly under a certain impression and hoping she was wrong.

"Sexually abused. _Not R-A-P-E-D_. Just abused," Emily said quietly.

Garcia's fuchsia bottom lip quivered. "What do you mean, _just_?"

"I don't want to talk details—"

"No, I mean, don't downplay it just because it wasn't R-A-P-E. Obviously, three years later, it still has an effect on you. No 'just' should be in that sentence. What happened to you isn't any less serious just because the _r_-word didn't happen." Garcia had tears in her eyes already.

_Damn it_, Emily thought. She quickly pondered whether telling Garcia had been the right thing to do. She hadn't really thought it out first. "I'm not downplaying it."

Garcia dropped off her stool and circled the counter. "Get down here." Emily rolled her eyes and obeyed, letting Garcia wrap her arms around her. She embraced her back.

"I'm okay," Emily said calmly. "I really am. I promise."

"Then how come three years later you still don't want, you know…?" Garcia asked, pulling back.

"It's not like I have nightmares or anything still," Emily said, shrugging. "The desire just isn't there."

"Except with him?"

"In a very non-practical, know-it's-not-gonna-happen way, sure. Fine. But that's it."

"I know what I am buying you for the next gift-giving holiday," Garcia said snappily, not wanting to have a solo sob fest.

"Oh God, Garcia, no," Emily said with a laugh.

"Ooh, Mother's Day," Garcia cooed, rubbing her hands together.

"That's not a gift-giving holiday for me."

Garcia's jaw dropped in utter shock. "You think Mother's Day is not for you? Oh, my dear, you are so misinformed."

"If you force me to celebrate Mother's Day in any way, shape, or form, I will kill you and make it look like an accident," Emily threatened. "Especially by buying me anything dirty."

"Why are you so aversive to Mother's Day? You're a mommy." Garcia's eyes shined brightly as she took Emily's hand.

"To JJ's kids, and JJ isn't here. It doesn't feel right," Emily said, her eyes glistening.

"All the more reason for your hard work to be celebrated. You've done it in the face of so many obstacles. You never had time to properly grieve for JJ, and you had personal issues with Hotch, yet you did what was right, and you've sacrificed being with what might be the perfect man in order to do so. And Charlotte and Henry are turning beautifully. And so is Jack. And you didn't have to take him on, but you did. Tell me what about this—"

"It's just a greeting card holiday, anyway. I feel appreciated already. Hotch throws compliments and cr—stuff like that at me all the time. There's no need for a day devoted to it." She walked back into the living room, leaving Garcia's frustrated face behind her.

"You are unbelievably stubborn," Garcia said with only a hint of entertainment.

"I know," Emily said, hoisting up Henry, who held out his arms to be picked up. She groaned under his weight.

"Can I buy you a toy for no good reason, then, if not for a holiday?" Garcia asked hopefully.

"You can buy me every toy on the market. Doesn't mean I'll use it," Emily said. "Seriously, I'm okay with where my life is right now. It's almost handy that I don't feel undersexed," she said, making sure she said the last word quickly enough so that Henry wouldn't pick it up. "If I was frustrated in that way, I probably would have made a really bad decision by now, because I'm pretty sure Hotch wouldn't say no."

Garcia, deciding to give up but only for the time being, nodded slowly. "Since I need to go home and put on a shirt that doesn't have baby formula on it, I will leave you alone for now. But this convo is not over, honey." Garcia walked up to Emily and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks again, and have a good time," Emily said.

Garcia grinned halfheartedly before heading toward the front door. "Hey, wait," Emily said hurriedly, following behind her. Garcia turned. "Thank you for caring enough to badger me. Even if I don't want to be badgered, it's nice to have someone to talk to. I'm so thankful for you. I really am. When is Garcia Appreciation Day?"

**A/N: Pretty please leave a review!**


	40. 100

**A/N: I warned you about the copious amounts of fluff, right?**

"What kind do you want?" Hotch asked Jack after watching him scan the rows of ice cream for the fifth time.

"Lots of kinds," Jack answered.

"How about two," Hotch said. "Any more sugar than that and you'll be up all night," he said under his breath.

"Okay, that one and that one," Jack said, pointing out Superman and strawberry.

"The two with the most sugar? Why not," Hotch said in defeat.

"Aren't we gonna get ice cream for everyone else?" Jack asked as they sat down inside with their own cones. The parlor had tables set up outside, but Hotch didn't feel that it was quite warm enough to sit outside yet.

"On our way home. If we get it now, it'll melt before we leave."

"Oh." Jack licked at the ice cream that was already dripping all over his hands. _Of course he's wearing one of his nice shirts today_, Hotch thought mournfully.

"How come everyone else didn't cone with?"

Hotch couldn't help himself. He reached for a napkin and dabbed at the blue and pink ice cream on Jack's chin. "Because, I thought it would be nice for you and I to spend some time together, and for Emily and Penelope to have some time together. That all right?"

Jack nodded and continued to get more ice cream on his face than in his mouth. Hotch had to throw in the towel on keeping Jack's face clean for the time being. "You are getting an extra long bath tonight," he said. Jack giggled. "So, how was school this week? I don't get to talk to you enough, do I?" Jack shrugged. "Talk to me. What letters did you learn?"

"We finished letters, Daddy."

Hotch's heart folded over in shame. "Oh. That's right. What're you on now? Uhhh…what was it again?"

"Counting to a hundred!"

Hotch's eyes widened, partly to entertain Jack, but partly in genuine surprise. "You can count to a hundred?"

"Almost!"

"Well, show me how high you can go," Hotch said eagerly.

Jack jumped at the chance to make his father proud, something that didn't go unnoticed by Hotch, whose heart swelled back up again as he listened to Jack count all the way up to sixty.

"What comes after sixty?" Hotch asked.

"I dunno yet."

"Seventy."

"Okay. Seventy-one…seventy…"

"Seventy-two," Hotch said, helping him along.

Jack gave his dad a toothy, ice cream outlined smile and counted his way to seventy-nine, where he waited for the next hint. Hotch helped him all the way to a hundred.

"And now you're ahead of everyone else," Hotch said. "Just…don't tell people that."

"Daddy?"

"Yeah, buddy? Come on, let's go wash your hands." Hotch walked to the restroom, Jack in tow. "What is it?"

"Is Emily my mommy too?"

Hotch caught his own surprised face in the mirror as he hoisted Jack up so he could wash his hands. "What do you mean, _too_?"

"She's Charlotte's and Henry's mommy. But she isn't my mommy."

"What makes you think that?" Hotch asked, stalling, trying to buy himself time to come up with a good explanation.

"'Cause she's only my mommy if she's your husband," Jack said matter-of-factly as he spread soap between his miniature hands.

"You mean if she's my wife," Hotch corrected. "Girls are wives and _boys_ are husbands. But who told you that?"

"Casey at daycare. She said friends can't be mommies and daddies together. She said they have to be married like _her_ mommy and daddy."

"Well, did you explain to them why we all live together?"

"No," Jack said simply as he dipped his hands under the running water.

"Well," Hotch said as he set Jack down on the floor and gave him a paper towel, taking another one to dip under the water, "Charlotte and Henry's mommy and daddy went to heaven, like I told you. Emily and I are like their mommy and daddy now because their mommy and daddy asked us to be. Does that make sense?"

"Uh-huh."

"Let me wipe your face," Hotch said, crouching down. He tried to work through Jack's flawed logic. "You understand that Emily and I are like a mommy and daddy for Henry and Charlotte, right?"

"Yup."

"And you know I'm your daddy. I always have been and always will be."

"Yup."

"So why don't you think Emily can't be like a mommy to you? She loves you. You love her, don't you?"

"Yup."

"Then why are you worried?" Hotch still didn't know how Jack had arrived to his conclusion. It would have made more sense for Jack to bring up Haley in the conversation, rather than what a friend at daycare had said, even if Jack hadn't completely misinterpreted the latter. His logic was full of holes.

"'Cause Charlotte and Henry have a mommy and a daddy but I just have a daddy."

Hotch sighed and wiped ice cream from a six-inch radius around Jack's mouth. "I need you to listen to me, okay?" Hotch said, looking Jack firmly in the eye.

"Okay," Jack said guiltily.

"No, no, you're not in trouble. I just want you to understand what I'm telling you. Emily loves you _just_ as much as she loves Charlotte and Henry. That's why she moved in with us. So we could all be together. She loves you so much. Do you understand that?"

Jack nodded. "Does she love you too, Daddy?"

"Sure, like family."

"Like Casey's mommy and daddy?"

"Well, not that kind of love. More like…brother and sister. She loves me like Charlotte loves you."

"Charlotte doesn't love me," Jack said, laughing as his dad scooped him up in his arms and kissed him on the forehead.

"Yes she does. A whole lot. She just can't say it yet."

"Do you love Emily back?"

"You bet I do. Just like you love Charlotte. You do love Charlotte, right?" Hotch asked in mock secrecy, looking around him. Jack grinned and nodded. "Well, there you go. Do you have any more questions?"

"How come you and Emily don't love each other like Casey's mommy and daddy?"

Hotch withheld the giant sigh he so wanted to let out and made a note to encourage Jack to make different friends. "Because Emily and I are just very good friends."

"Why?"

"Because." Hotch felt guilty for pulling the "Because" card so early in the "Why?" game, but Jack was throwing some wicked curveballs. "Let's pick some ice cream for Emily and Henry and head home."

—

"Upstairs, boys. Get ready for your bath," Hotch told Jack and Henry once the latter was done making a mess worse than Jack's with his ice cream. "Your turn tonight, right?" he asked Emily. She nodded, signaling that she desperately needed the cookies and cream she was wolfing down. "Did you know that Jack is learning to count to a hundred at school?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," Emily said offhandedly.

The pain in Hotch's voice made Emily regret being honest. "He told you?"

"Well, I happened to ask, that's all."

"Still…" Hotch sighed and scrunched his hair in one hand, showing his distress in an uncharacteristic way. "I feel so out of touch with him."

Emily sensed that Hotch needed to talk much like she had needed to talk to Garcia at times. He didn't seem to be looking for a fix, but just for someone to assure him that he was delusional.

"He finished his ABCs at school, and now he's counting, and I didn't even know. And then he asked me tonight why you aren't his mommy. Have I not…told him that? Have I not done a good job explaining this whole thing to him? Have I left him completely in the dark? Am I doing this all wrong?"

Emily had seen Hotch cry before, so she knew he wasn't there quite yet, but any more self-loathing and he'd be well on his way. "What did you tell him?" she asked softly.

"That you love him just as much as you love Henry and Charlotte. Some kid at daycare got the whole nuclear family idea stuck in his head and he got confused. And that also got him onto why you and I aren't in love—or, essentially, aren't married—like his friend's parents, and—Emily, he's asking all these things I don't know how to explain." With terrified eyes he was furtively asking Emily how to explain to Jack that they _did_ love one another in the way Jack wanted them to, but couldn't do anything about it. _Leave it to a five-year-old to stir things up again, just when we were getting comfortable_, Hotch thought with so much resentment that he wondered whether it was his five-year-old he was really angry at, or someone else.

"I don't think all these things are explainable to someone his age. I don't think you can really reason with him the way that makes sense to you and me. I'll talk to him if he brings it up, okay? Did he seem satisfied with what you told him?"

"The last thing I told him was 'because,'" Hotch admitted in abject embarrassment. "I hate that I couldn't tell him anything else."

"Listen," Emily said, tossing her ice cream cup in the trash. Licking her thumb, she opened up the cabinet above the stove, stood on her tip toes and felt around for something on the very top shelf. She handed him a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "Go sit outside and take a breather. Put them back where you found them."

"I thought you flushed these when you were done?"

"I had a rough day last week. So sue me."

"If I pick up smoking again, I'm blaming you," Hotch said, but he took the cigarettes without a second thought.

"You won't pick it up again. I won't let you. Now go. Before the baby wakes up and needs you. And change your shirt before you handle her."

"Yes, ma'am."

—

Emily's bath time routine with the boys went much more smoothly than anticipated. Henry had stopped fussing over baths ever since he'd picked up the pastime of shedding his clothing in random corners of the house, and for once, Jack didn't whine about sharing the tub. Emily and Hotch had tried to do two baths, but that seemed to triple the amount of time it took to get the boys to bed. It wasn't until that time that Jack's curiosity was reignited.

It was after she told him, just like any other night as she took her turn tucking him in, that she loved him.

"As much as Henry?" Jack asked, pulling his covers up to his chin, glancing over at Henry's bed.

"Of course."

"And Charlotte?"

"Yes. I love you all the same. Anyone who tells you different is wrong. And you can tell them that. You hear me?" she asked, pinching his nose. He nodded and accepted a kiss on the forehead. Emily almost walked into Hotch, who was about to come in for his goodnights. She excused herself and headed toward her room. She was just finishing changing into pajamas—one of two times during the day when her door was actually closed—when Hotch knocked.

"Yeah," she said, opening up.

"Whatever you said to him, thank you." It looked like Hotch was having a hard time putting into words what he really wanted to say, and was giving her the abridged version.

"I just told him I love him," Emily said while she took out her earrings. "Just as much as Henry. He's never asked me that before. Maybe he just needed to hear it."

"Why is it that you seem to understand him better than I do?"

"Aaron, are you serious?" Emily's voice was confused, her eyes sad for him. Hotch just shrugged, staring off into a corner while he leaned against the doorframe. "Why do you think he asked you about me when he was confused? He trusts _you_. Sure, he trusts me, too, but you're his _father_ and he knows that. Even if once in a while he has these big questions you don't quite know the answers to, he's never going to forget who you are to him. Don't let this one thing get you down. You're such a good dad. And that's not meant as a compliment. God knows your ego is already big enough," she said with a smirk. "It's the truth. You've been a parent a lot longer than I have. You should know even better than I do that if parenting were easy, the wouldn't be so many damn books about it, and the contraceptive industry wouldn't be so huge. So give yourself some credit. He's still got all of his appendages, he says 'please' and 'thank you,' and he can count to sixty so far."

"A hundred," Hotch corrected her, a faint smile starting to shine on his face. "We got to a hundred today."

"Then why are you in here?" she asked playfully. "You don't need my reassurance. Leave me alone and go to bed. And take the baby monitor. Your turn," she said, handing over the handset.

Hotch laughed under his breath. "Thanks."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Goodnight."

**A/N: Reviews are much appreciated, long or short! Thanks for reading! Please leave a review :)  
**

**OH, and one more thing! The CM Fanfic Awards were dished out the other day and thanks you guys, I won:**

- (1st) Best Hotch/Prentiss smut/sex scene - Stranded Again: Got Wood?

- (2nd) Best New Author

- (2nd) Best Work-in-Progress (All This Time)

- (2nd) Best Mutli-Chapter (All Fall Down)

- (2nd) Best Drama (All Fall Down)

- (3rd) Best Comedy (A Favor for a Favor)

**Thank you _so much_! Reviews and awards are a fanfic author's paycheck!  
**


	41. Plans

**A/N: This chapter has more flashbacks. They refer to flashbacks many many chapters ago. **

**As a recap of relevant flashbacks, Hotch (in May 2010) snapped at Emily for correcting Jack in front of him. In June 2010 he apologized, and he and Emily had one of those "almost" moments before Jack interrupted. That night, Hotch decided to retire, and announced his plans later that month. Hopefully that gives you enough context! If not, the relevant flashbacks are in chapters 5, 8 and 13.**

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

"I'm taking the kids out," Hotch announced as he descended the stairs. It was a Saturday morning, and Emily was sitting on the couch with a cup of coffee and the newspaper, just having had showered and dressed.

"This early? Where?" she asked, not looking up from the paper.

"Don't worry about it. Have you seen Charlotte's car seat?"

"You lost a car seat?"

"_No_, she was in it when I brought the kids home last night, and now it's not where I left it."

"So you lost it."

Hotch stepped in front of Emily and crossed his arms. "I'm giving you the day off, you know. A little help would be nice."

"It's right behind you." Emily still hadn't looked up from the paper, but her lips were turned up.

"Oh." Hotch turned and saw the car seat sitting on the recliner. "Thanks."

"Where're you taking the kids?" Emily asked.

"I told you," Hotch said playfully. "Don't worry about it."

"Can I come?"

"I'm giving you the day off, and you want to come out with us anyway?"

"I feel kind of left out, I guess." Emily folded her newspaper and watched Hotch get everything together before bothering to round up the kids.

"I don't mean to make you feel left out. Have a nice quiet morning. Read a book. Take a nap. Get a haircut," he said, rifling through the diaper bag.

Emily frowned. "You think I need a haircut?"

"You know that's not what I meant." Hotch took the stairs two at a time and came back down with Charlotte in his arms and the boys rushing down ahead of him.

"Hey, why are they all in their nice clothes? They're going to trash them."

"No, they won't. I promise. We still going to try the church thing tomorrow?" Hotch asked as he buckled the baby in, grinning briefly when she looked up at him with wide eyes.

"Yeah." She and Hotch had finally decided to take the dive and go as a family to the church where Henry and Charlotte had been baptized, where JJ and Will had brought them, and where JJ and Will's funeral had been held. Emily was trying not to think about it for the time being.

"Okay, well, I told Jack a while ago that I'd get him a new suit and tie and never did, and he wants to dress up tomorrow, so we might be gone quite a while. Depends on how cooperative he is."

"Get H-E-N-R-Y something too, okay?"

"I know," Hotch said. "Call Garcia. Do something fun. See you later."

**May 2010**

"Did she say what she wanted?" Emily asked Garcia, grabbing a mint from a bowl on JJ's desk as she sat in the empty visitor's chair.

"Just that she had news," Garcia said. "What do you think it is?

"It sounded good, not bad, at least. I don't know, maybe she's pregnant again," Emily pondered, popping the mint into her mouth.

JJ joined them and shut the door before Garcia could give Emily her two cents. "Hello, ladies," JJ said with a cheerful grin.

"What's up, Miss JJ?" Garcia asked.

JJ sat in her chair and put her elbows on her desk. "Well…" Her big blue eyes got even bigger.

"Are you pregs?" Garcia popped out.

JJ giggled and nodded sheepishly. "Yep."

Emily smacked Garcia's arm lightly. "Hey, that was _my_ guess."

"Prove it," Garcia snapped. Emily rolled her eyes, but quickly it became real to her what JJ had just confirmed.

"When? How? Well, I don't mean how. I know _how_. But that's—that's awesome," Emily said, smiling. "Congratulations, Jayje. When did you find out?"

"Got the results back from the doctor this morning," JJ said.

"Sweetie, this is just…amazing!" Garcia snatched up both of JJ's hands. "When are you due?"

"January," JJ answered. "Now the question is…when are _you two_ going to settle down and have some kids, too? I'm sick of being the only mom around here."

"Someday," Emily said with a shrug and a faint smile, remembering the night a couple of months ago when she and Hotch had almost kissed again at her apartment—but that memory was soon overshadowed by how Hotch had snapped at her recently when she'd corrected him in front of Jack. He still hadn't really apologized for that. The bad taste in her mouth must have shown on her face.

"You okay, Em?" JJ asked, and Garcia cast her a worried glance.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. Just spacing out."

"So kids someday, huh?" JJ asked, taking out a mint for herself.

"Sure," Emily said with a shrug. "I've always wanted to be a mom."

"Got anyone in mind for the baby daddy?" Garcia asked, sharing a sneaky look with JJ.

Emily glared at them both. "No. None of this. Garcia, what about you? Kids someday?"

**June 2010**

Maybe she hadn't seen anything in Hotch's eyes when he'd held her the night before. But he'd apologized. And he hadn't objected to her hands running through his hair. Emily closed her eyes at her desk and took a moment to relive that little moment they'd shared the night before. _Screw_ not reading into things. It had been almost two years since he'd hugged her, and he'd chosen to hug her alone, at night, when he thought Jack had been asleep. And things might have gone further had Jack not interrupted. Just thinking about the possibilities made Emily's heart race.

"You okay, Emily?" Reid asked.

"Huh?" Emily opened her eyes and saw Reid staring at her from his desk.

"You look…lightheaded or something."

Emily laughed nervously. "No, I'm fine. Just, uh, daydreaming."

"About what?"

Emily shot Reid a friendly yet testy look. "There's a reason they're called daydreams and not 'stories you tell your friends,' Reid."

Reid gave one of his trademark grins and nodded. "Fair enough."

Emily got back to work, but the idea of her and Hotch finally taking the next step gnawed at her brain the entire day. As hard as she tried not to get her hopes up, JJ's pregnancy kept making its way to the forefront of her mind, reminding her of her plans to someday be a mother herself, and reminding her of JJ and Garcia alluding to the infatuation with Hotch to which she'd never admitted. All of it seemed to be coming together now, somehow. These had to be signs, her heart told her. But her brain told her she was a strong, independent woman, who didn't need a man to make her happy. She could adopt children if she wanted them. If Hotch wanted her, he'd have to come to her. She didn't have to go to him.

By the end of the day she'd battled internally for so long that she needed coffee before she could even think of driving home. She was standing by the coffeemaker sipping a cup down quickly when she saw Hotch come into the area from the direction of Strauss' office and straight into his own. She carried her coffee up to his office. "Were you meeting with Strauss?" she said in a hushed tone, letting herself in through his open door. He looked up.

"Yes."

The professionalism in his voice put an offended look on her face, one that thankfully he didn't see, as he was already getting back to work.

"Well…what about? Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," Hotch said, lightening up a bit. "Just talking to her about our last case. Nothing unusual."

"Oh. Okay. I'm gonna…head out," she said, offering Hotch a place to jump in and invite her over if he felt so inclined. He looked up from his paperwork only briefly.

"Okay. Goodnight."

"'Night," she muttered, exiting the office with a forboding knot forming in her gut.

"Hey," JJ said perkily, crossing paths with Emily right outside of Hotch's office.

Emily brightened up a little, unable to help it. "Hey."

"Garcia and I were thinking of grabbing a drink. Well, a drink for her anyway. Wanna join us?"

Emily glanced unconsciously back at Hotch's office, her vision growing foggy for a moment. "Sure. I could use a drink." She heard her voice lower and regretted not maintaining better control over it.

"Everything okay?" JJ asked as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah. Just an off day."

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

The entire time Hotch and the kids were out, Emily debated calling up Garcia for coffee, lunch, something. But she didn't want Garcia to feel like a friend of convenience, so she tried to think of some other way to occupy her time. Two months ago, this wouldn't have been such a chore. Two months ago, her Saturdays were always hers, given that she wasn't out of town on a case. Saturdays weren't filled with eight loads of laundry or shopping for cereal and diapers or debating what to do with three kids for the day or wiping runny noses.

So she tried to remember what she would have done on a Saturday two months ago. She probably would have gone to the gym (that sounded laughable now), done some cleaning around the apartment, looked at any work she'd brought home with her…Only one of those was applicable now.

So even though Hotch's intentions, sweet as they were, were to give her the day off, she spent it crouched down picking up toys, dirty clothes, dishes, and everything else that hadn't gotten cleaned up during the week. Once she got going, she couldn't think of a reason not to start scrubbing down kitchen and bathroom surfaces and dusting everywhere else. It was the first deep cleaning the house had experienced since she moved in. By the time the rest of the clan returned, she was almost finished and felt like she needed another shower.

Hotch surprised Emily by actually noticing the work she'd put in. She hadn't expected recognition, nor had she really cared one way or the other. She'd done it for something to do, not for a pat on the back. But his reaction warmed her inside all the same. "Wow, did you clean the whole time we were gone?" Emily shrugged and picked up the baby, finding that she'd missed her. "It looks great in here. You didn't have to—"

"It's fine," Emily interjected. "It needed to be done and I didn't mind."

"Well, still, thanks. I feel like a schmuck for leaving a dirty house behind."

"The house has been dirty for two months. It wasn't a new development," Emily said with a halfhearted smile. "Did they make it through the day without ruining their clothes?" she asked, seeing that Hotch was following her into the living room while the boys went upstairs, surely to bring down some of the toys Emily had put away.

"Yup."

"So, what did you end up doing?" Emily sat with her legs crossed underneath her, and laid the baby across her lap, letting her play with her pinky finger. Hotch sat across from her.

"Got Jack a new suit and tie, and I let Henry pick out a toy."

"Did Jack seem okay with that, like it was fair? Okay, wow, I'm sorry. I'm not trying to question your—"

Hotch shook his head and put a hand out in front of him. "No, it's a valid question, and we're in this as a team. I know I need to work on treating them the same, so I made sure everyone seemed happy before we came home."

"Good." Emily leaned back into the couch, her upper half slumping over and her eyes falling shut.

"You okay?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah…I just realized today that—and I hope I don't sound resentful or whiny or anything—but just stating the facts—none of…_this…_was part of my plan. Well, bits and pieces were, but it got a little mixed up."

"You mean your five-year-plan? Ten-year-plan?"

"My everything plan," Emily sighed, shrugging her shoulders and keeping them there. "And I'm not unhappy with where I am now. Far from it. I love all of you, and you know that. But today I was finally…on my own—outside of my bedroom, anyway—for the first time in two months," she said with a laugh, rolling her hand over Charlotte's tummy, "and I sat thinking about what I was going to do with myself while you guys were out. And I remembered that two months ago, there wouldn't _be_ anyone else to worry about on a Saturday. I'd get up, do my own thing, not have to worry about anyone else. So today when I had the whole day ahead of me with no one else to worry about, I kind of didn't know what to do with myself. It was really unnerving. And it's just crazy that it only took two months for that kind of transformation. I'm sorry, I'm just rambling…I don't even have a point to any of this."

"You don't have to have a point," Hotch said. "You just needed to talk. Right?"

Emily opened her eyes and looked at Hotch. Her lips pressed into a thin smile and she nodded as Hotch stood up. "Yeah. I guess so. Thanks for listening."

"No problem. What do you want for dinner?"

"I don't know. I'll figure it out in a bit. I'm just gonna sit and relax for a minute."

"I've got it."

"It's my night."

"That's always subject to change," Hotch said from the kitchen.

"I am _not_ going to fight you." Emily listened as a significant portion of her plan rummaged the cabinets and fridge for dinner. In her plan, it would have been dinner for the two of them and Jack, and maybe another child of theirs by that time. And in her plan, they were together in a much different way. But as soon as she started down the road of comparing expectations and reality, she realized that it was her decision that kept the two things separate.

**A/N: Thank you so much for reading. If you have a moment, please leave a review and let me know what you thought, good, bad, or somewhere in between.  
**


	42. Faith

Hotch sighed and entered the pew in which Emily sat waiting for him. She looked surprised to see Jack (who walked past his father and Emily to sit on the latter's other side) with him. She looked at Hotch for an answer.

"I have a bunch of forms to fill out for Jack before I can sign him up for CCD." He held up a stack of paperwork. "Can you put these in your purse?"

Emily's forehead crinkled. She gave Hotch a slanted smile and took the papers from him with a dramatic flair, folding them and putting them into her purse. "Get your own purse. So he can't go in the nursery with Henry and Charlotte?"

"He's too old. Right, buddy?" Hotch asked, leaning forward and looking past Emily. Jack leaned forward as well and caught Hotch's eye. "You're a big boy. Big boys don't go in the nursery." Jack smiled and sat back in his seat.

"So he was baptized Catholic, right?" Emily asked quietly. Other parishioners were milling about, finding places to sit, but she still didn't want to make this conversation everybody else's business. She smacked herself for failing to bring it up sooner, when they had decided a few days ago to start going to church, if for nothing else than because it had been what Will and JJ wanted.

"Yes."

"Who are his godparents?"

"Jessica is his godmother and his godfather was an old friend of Haley's who passed away a few years ago," Hotch answered.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Emily said softly, touching Hotch's shoulder. "Well at least he still has his aunt. Have you been having fun with your auntie on Fridays, Jack?" Emily asked, turning away from Hotch.

"Yup!"

"Yeah? That's great…" Emily placed her hand on Jack's head and stroked his hair, compelling him to lean in against her. "Your new suit looks really nice, mister."

"It's just like Daddy's."

Emily looked from Jack's black suit and solid red tie, to Hotch, who she realized was wearing the same thing. He grinned. "Well, would you look at that. I don't remember the last time I saw you in red and black," she said to Hotch. "Not solid red, anyway."

"You pay attention to my tie colors?"

The look on Emily's face told Hotch everything he needed to know. "That's all right. I already knew you were obsessed with me."

Emily bit her lip and jabbed Hotch with her elbow. "Don't talk about stuff like that. We're in church."

—

The clan planned to spend the rest of their Sunday remembering the Sabbath day by keeping it holy and lazing around the house. Hotch was out of his suit and Emily out of her dress within five minutes of getting home, before even changing the children (Henry, after a little training, finally waited for the adults to take his clothes off for him).

Emily clearly had some feelings she wanted to share about their experience that morning, but when Hotch had probed, she'd told him it was a conversation for the two of them alone.

"I wanna go outside and play, Daddy," Jack moaned to Hotch a few hours after they'd gotten home; Hotch lay back lazily in the recliner, flipping channels.

"Go for it," Hotch said with a small smirk.

"You're not gonna go watch him?" Emily asked as Jack sprinted out the sliding glass door, his sneakers not even tied.

Hotch looked over from the television and saw Emily looking at him in disbelief. "The yard's completely fenced," Hotch said. "What's the big deal?"

"Nothing," Emily mumbled, heading for the stairs so she could bring the baby down.

"Seriously, what's up with the attitude? Is it about church today?" Hotch asked. "No one got snoopy with you, did they?"

"No. I told you, we'll talk about it later," Emily said testily. "You should go out and keep an eye on him and bring Henry out too. It's nice out."

"It sounds like you need some fresh air, too," Hotch said, getting up.

"I'll be fine."

—

"Everyone okay?" Hotch asked when Emily came downstairs from putting the baby to bed.

"Charlotte's fussy. I hope she's not coming down with something," Emily replied, skipping the living room and going to the kitchen for a glass of water. Hotch waited patiently on the couch, the television on low. Emily took the recliner this time, gazing at the television to see what Hotch was watching.

"We going to talk about today?" Hotch asked cautiously.

Emily seemed like she was ignoring him at first, but eventually she nodded faintly. "Do you remember Matthew Benton?"

The wrinkles already prominent on Hotch's forehead became even more so. "Your friend who passed away a couple years ago?" He eyed Emily with a mixture of curiosity and worry. Was she still mourning over the loss? he wondered.

Emily took a deep breath and wrung her hands in her lap. "He and John Cooley and I met when my mom was stationed in Rome when I was fifteen, like I told you," Emily told the floor instead of Hotch.

"I'm listening," Hotch said kindly when Emily paused. When she finally looked up at him, she had a tear running down her cheek. His worry lines grew even deeper. "What's the matter?"

"Just…the reason I've been so cranky today is because I have kind of a grudge with the Catholic Church. The whole incident a couple of years ago gave me some peace about it, but I still haven't completely forgiven the institution, even though it was only one person that made me feel like filth."

Hotch leaned forward and propped his upper body up on his knees. "I'm sorry, but I—"

"I got pregnant. It was John's. I didn't want to tell him because I didn't really see it as his fault, at least not any more than mine. But I needed to tell someone. And it sure as hell wasn't going to be my parents. So I told Matthew. He took me to his church—well, I went with him once in a while—to talk to his priest, who told me that if I got an abortion, I wouldn't be welcome in his congregation. I was so…_furious_ that a man could sit there and tell a fifteen-year-old girl that she had to have a baby. But at the same time I knew it was my fault. I shouldn't have been having sex that young, not for any reason." Emily realized she had a few more tears about to fall and dabbed at her eyes, wishing Hotch would stop looking at her.

"I take it you had an abortion," Hotch said as non-judgmentally as possible.

Emily sniffled and nodded, avoiding Hotch's eyes again. "Matthew took me. And when we came back he insisted we go back to the church anyway. He walked me up to the front pew and the priest stopped right in the middle of his sermon and just _glared_ at Matthew. And Matthew glared right back until the priest started talking again. After that, Matthew went to church less and less, had doubts about his faith, and so did I. I was never really a devout Catholic like he was. I think I told you his parents thought I was a bad influence on him. I did my fair share of…stupid teenage things besides having sex, let's just say. I _was_ a bad influence on him. But I was—and still am—a Christian. That much my parents managed to instill in me. But they never forced church down my throat, mainly because they never found the time to go themselves. After my confirmation I only went here and there, for holidays or with friends. But when the priest looked at me like I was going to hell for what I'd done, I seriously questioned that faith, even though I knew he was right in that I had sinned—both in having sex in the first place and in taking a human life, no matter how much I justified it.

"And like I said, when Matthew's case was solved, I found some peace. I realized that what one priest said to me didn't have to…define my religion for me. But I still never went back, not until today. And I thought I could handle it. I really did." She stopped again and took a few shallow breaths.

"But you couldn't," Hotch said. Emily shook her head. "Then why didn't you say something? We could have left."

"Not in the middle of church. You can't just…pick up and leave. But I honestly don't know if I can go back, Aaron. I'm serious. All I could think about was the abortion and the priest and Matthew, and I felt sick to my stomach the entire time."

It broke Hotch's heart to see Emily crying and being able to do nothing about it. The abortion hardly fazed him, oddly. "Have you forgiven yourself?" he asked. "Or do you still feel guilty?"

"I thought I had forgiven myself," Emily said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But I guess I haven't completely. But it's not so much _that_—the guilt—that made today hard for me. It was just an overall sense of anxiety, I guess. I want to do this the right way. I want to raise Henry and Charlotte in the faith they were baptized into. I know JJ and Will wanted them to grow up in the Church. And I could use some spiritual guidance myself, lately. This hasn't exactly been the easiest two months of my life. I could use some words of wisdom. But I just don't know if I can keep going. Not to a Catholic church anyway. Maybe a Protestant church would be a little different, different enough for me to feel at ease. But I feel like even suggesting that is so selfish of me. This shouldn't be about me. It should be about the kids, and not just Henry and Charlotte, but Jack, too. And you. You seemed happy to be going back." Emily finally looked at Hotch again, pleading with him to understand.

A sigh rushed past Hotch's lips. He understood every single word she was saying, but he wasn't sure how to convey it while sounding like a reasoning voice at the same time. "I understand your frustration. I don't want to keep going to a church that makes you feel uncomfortable, especially given that you're Christian and you're trying to get in touch with that again, and trying to set an example for the kids. You can't set a good example if you resent going. I understand what you're saying. But I don't know if there's an easy answer to this."

Emily nodded in resignation. "I know."

"I mean, I have no personal qualms about the Catholic Church myself. Maybe I could take the kids—so that Henry and Charlotte grow up in the church that JJ and Will intended, and you could go to a church where you feel more comfortable. Or we could all go somewhere else. Maybe shop around until we find a Catholic church where you don't feel so anxious, or a Protestant church. I know the kids were all baptized Catholic, but my personal belief is that Catholic and Protestant churches all have the most important element in common. I don't think JJ and Will would resent us raising the kids in a Protestant church. What do you think?"

Emily shook her head. "I don't know. I'm sorry I just…dumped all of this on you. You must still be reeling about the whole abortion thing."

"I'm not. Not at all." Hotch stood up. "Come here." Emily shook her head in protest, waving Hotch away, but he grabbed the hand that she waved and pulled her up out of her chair. Accepting the strong but gentle arms around her back, Emily rested her cheek on Hotch's shoulder. "Using an abortion as some means of birth control as an adult who made a bad decision is _one_ thing, in my opinion, anyway. And maybe even saying that makes me an asshole. But you were just a kid. There was no easy way out of that. And…obviously, what you did has been a weight on your shoulders your entire life. The fact that there's still some residual guilt, what, twenty-five years later, just means you understand the consequences of your actions more than a lot of people would. That's a long time to feel guilty about something, especially when you were just a kid when it happened" Hotch said, rubbing small circles over Emily's back when she finally hugged him in return. "I think you need to work on forgiving yourself completely, for one. As for where we go to church, we have a week to think that over, maybe talk some more. We have friends who are always happy to give their two cents, if we can get around giving them all the details, since I'm assuming no one else knows…"

"Actually, Dave knows. He was really supportive when we were working Matthew's case—"

"I'll have to tell you about the talk he and I had in my office some day," Hotch said with a small laugh. "He really fought for you."

"Anyway," Emily sighed, not caring who was supportive of her two years ago, because Hotch was currently being more supportive than she ever could have imagined, "I told him about it all. But Garcia doesn't know." She felt that this was a good point in the conversation to let go of Hotch, but she didn't quite want to. So she held on tight, hooking her hands up to grasp his shoulders as they swayed to and fro minutely. "And I just recently told her about L.A., and she still pokes and prods about that, asking me if I'm all right. I don't know if I should dump this on her, too. You're right. It was a long time ago."

"Still, she is your best friend, no?"

Emily smiled, feeling her tear-caked face tighten up. "Not my only one."

Hotch embraced Emily more tightly at those words. "Maybe we should take a couple of days to think about it, then. Then we can regroup and see if maybe we want someone else's advice, or maybe by then an answer will come to one or both of us on its own. Okay?"

Emily nodded, pulling her arms out from underneath Hotch's. He backed away slightly, thinking she wanted out, but she just circled her arms around his neck instead, her chin finding his shoulder again. Warmth flooded Hotch's body. "Thank you," Emily said. "I'm sorry I was such a bitch today."

"I wouldn't go that far, but it's okay. Don't worry about it. Why don't you hit the sack? You're tired. And leave the baby monitor in my room."

"No, it's my turn tonight."

"You can argue if you want, but you know I'll win."

**A/N: Please leave a review!**


	43. It Was Only a Matter of Time

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily pulled away instantly, shaking her head.

"What?" Hotch asked, his arms still in midair. He let them lower slowly to his sides.

"I know I've have a couple of…mini-meltdowns this weekend. To be blunt, I'm PMSing right now. But you don't need to—and don't take this the wrong way—rescue me every time I'm upset. Yesterday and today all I really needed was someone to talk to, and you gave me that. I don't need you to take dinner duty or baby duty."

"But you let me take dinner duty."

"I shouldn't have. I don't want to seem like I'm trying to get out of stuff."

Hotch shook his head. "It doesn't seem that way at all. You're just having an off weekend emotionally and I don't mind helping out a little. But if it bothers you so much…"

Emily's mouth dropped. "Please don't take it that way. I really appreciate the sentiment. I do. But it's not necessary, okay?"

"All right," Hotch said, throwing in the towel.

"Why don't we put in a movie or something?" Emily asked. "I'd like to forget tomorrow's Monday for a while."

—

Emily regularly woke up at least an hour before she and Hotch normally got the kids out of bed. Not only did it give her an hour of sanity, but it afforded her the opportunity to take as long of a shower as she wanted to, without worrying about hogging the bathroom.

Monday morning, she was enjoying her ritual steamy shower when someone pounded on the bathroom door.

"Who is it?" she yelled, smoothing conditioner into her hair.

"I gotta go potty!" sounded Jack's unmistakable voice.

"Okay, come in," Emily called back, making sure the shower curtain was shut all the way. "Just don't flush," she warned when she heard Jack lift up the toilet seat.

He remembered not to flush, however she didn't hear the door shut on his way out. "Jack!" But he didn't come back. She sighed and finished her shower, then poked her head out between the shower curtain and the wall. All she needed to do was make it three steps across the bathroom to the poorly placed towel rack. She thought she could hear Hotch's shower running, so, thinking she was safe with everyone else in the house either in bed or in the shower, she stepped out of the tub and hurried to the towel rack.

"Oh—sorry," Hotch said with a hiss from the doorway. Emily caught his gaze for a split second before he clenched his eyes shut.

"Oh—fuck—ughhh, Jack," she moaned.

"Sorry, I didn't see a thing," Hotch lied.

"Oh, please, I saw you ogling," Emily said, joking being the only way she knew how to break the tension. She wrapped herself in her towel and joined Hotch in the hallway.

Hotch faltered for a moment only because Emily was mostly right. He hadn't been able to shut his eyes right away. "I shut my eyes as soon as I thought to," he said, moving away from Emily and keeping his eyes far north.

"It's not really a big deal," Emily realized aloud. "It's surprising we made it this long without one of us seeing the other naked. And you'd already seen the best parts anyway."

"I'm not sure how I'm supposed to reply to that."

"Then don't," Emily said, patting Hotch on the back on her way from the bathroom to her bedroom.

**April 2008**

Emily always parked next to Hotch. When she'd started at the BAU, it happened to be the spot that was always open. Most likely it had been Elle's. Emily hadn't even known it was Hotch's car next to hers until a few weeks into working there, when they happened to walk out at the same time. Parking next to him had become so commonplace that she hoped, on her way to work the Monday after her night out (and in) with Hotch, that she could at least make it as far as parking her car before she got uncomfortable. But she was let down. Her stomach lurched at the sight of his shiny black sedan. Physiologically she just felt worse the closer she got to the building, and by the time she passed through the glass doors into the bullpen of the BAU, she knew she'd never been paler.

"Hey, how's it going?" JJ asked her, passing through for a cup of coffee. It was probably her second.

"Nothing," was Emily's overly hasty response.

"Huh?" JJ asked, her nose crinkling.

"Huh?" Emily echoed, stopping and staring around her.

"Are you okay?" JJ asked with a chuckle.

"Yeah," Emily said distantly. "Just a rough weekend."

"Too much partying?"

"Something like that," Emily said dryly. She followed after JJ for her own coffee, thankful that JJ assumed she was hungover and left her alone. Emily made her way to the briefing ten minutes early, hoping she could get priority seating (a seat next to anyone but Hotch). She was the first one there, but despite her best efforts to lure people into sitting next to her with pleasant conversation, the only seat open when Hotch arrived last was the one right next to her. She tried her best not to roll her eyes he sat next to her, his body language reflecting every bit of awkwardness she was feeling.

Try as she may to eradicate the image of Hotch beneath her on his couch, the memory of his lips on hers, on her neck, on her breasts, it had been almost the only thing she'd thought about all weekend, and apparently today would provide no respite. Not that she'd expected it. But she'd hoped. While JJ went over the details of the case, Emily's thoughts shifted just a little, but not far enough. She now wondered what Hotch was thinking. Was he undressing her in his mind, thinking about her hand pressing into him, her fingernails on his back? Or was he concentrating on the case? A cursory glance his way when she had the feeling it was safe told her that he was just as distracted as she was. He didn't notice her eyes on him.

They left for that very case that day, bound for the bustling metropolis of Dallas, Texas. They made it back to their hotel for some shut-eye around two in the morning, Emily to find her air conditioner non-operational. She rolled her eyes and called down to the front desk to see if they had any other rooms, or someone to come fix the air conditioner, only to find that they were fully booked and their maintenance man was out until the real morning. She found her lightest pair of pajamas for the time being (shorts and a tank top) and debated seeing if JJ wouldn't mind a roommate. Just as she was about to send her a text message, a knock sounded at the door.

"Just a second," she said, peeking into the closet and bathroom to see if a robe was to be had. No such luck. _Par for the course_, she thought. Her day had already been bad enough without the awkwardness that accompanied Hotch's presence in the same room. And, to make matters worse, it was him at the door when she looked through the peephole. She sighed and opened the door a crack. "What is it?"

"I need to speak with you for a moment," Hotch said as professionally as possible, probably to keep anyone else who might hear him from suspecting anything.

"I'm not decent right now."

"Can you make yourself decent?"

Emily huffed and swung the door open. "Just keep your eyes to yourself," she muttered, crossing her arms and walking back into the room. Hotch was sure to close the door quickly behind him. While she waited for Hotch to start the conversation, she rifled through her go bag for a sweatshirt that she would rather not put on in an eighty degree room.

"I'm not looking," Hotch assured her.

"All the same," Emily insisted, pulling on her favorite worn-out brown sweatshirt that she always packed for overly air-conditioned hotel rooms. Then she faced him.

"We should talk about Friday," Hotch said tentatively.

"No, we shouldn't," she said with utter simplicity.

"You think we should ignore the fact that we—"

"Yes, I do. We made a mistake. And we almost made a bigger one. But that's that. We can't take it back, but we don't need to analyze it. We were drunk. You were vulnerable and lonely. I was undersexed. And there I go analyzing it. It was stupid, Hotch. That's all there is to it."

"That it was." Hotch gazed inquiringly into Emily's eyes, not having had met them all day. "How do we act around each other, then?"

Emily looked at Hotch like she'd never seen a stupider question come from his lips. "Like we didn't almost sleep with each other, that's how."

"You make it sound a lot easier than it is." Hotch's voice grew more heated, impassioned.

"It'll take practice," Emily said with a shrug.

Hotch ran an anxious hand from his forehead to his neck, flipping his perfectly combed hair out of place. "I have to be honest with you. Today wasn't easy."

"Ditto. But it'll get easier." Just talking to Hotch made things noticeably less tense for Emily. "I can start wearing turtleneck sweaters or something if it helps."

A hint of a grin crossed Hotch's lips and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. He hated how only Emily made him feel so unsure of himself. "Haley and I had our court hearing this morning."

Emily's eyes widened for only a moment. "Oh. I thought everything was over once you dropped the papers off. It was an uncontested divorce, wasn't it?"

Hotch shrugged. "Formality, I guess."

"You _were_ a lawyer at one point, were you not?" Emily teased.

"Yes, but not a family lawyer. Anyway, Haley had already taken the liberty of setting a court date for this morning, which she was kind enough to tell me only when I called her Saturday morning."

"She seems pretty nice like that." Emily mentally smacked herself for her cattiness.

"Oh, her passive aggressiveness knows no limits. But I haven't been much better lately," Hotch said.

"So it's official?" Emily sat down on her bed and put her hands between her bare knees.

"Its official. I'm a free man."

Emily's stomach growled, she hoped not audibly. Hotch's proclamation was not helping keep the tension at bay. "Why are you telling me this?"

"I'm supposed to be acting like Friday never happened, aren't I?" Hotch's eyes glimmered. "So I'm just a friend telling a friend that I'm divorced now."

"Touché."

Hotch smirked. "It's a little hot in here. What's up with your air?"

"I don't know, ask it," Emily sighed. "And they don't have any free rooms. Want a roomie?" she asked with a false, toothy smile.

Hotch laughed. "Nice. You should see if JJ has extra room."

"Yeah, I was about to."

Hotch nodded and turned on his heel. "Goodnight, then."

"'Night."

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

All day at work, Emily couldn't help but let her mind wander to that morning. She blushed a little each time, wondering if Hotch had liked what he'd seen. The poor guy couldn't catch a break. He'd been an angel all weekend, and now was certainly simultaneously plagued and blessed with the vision of her naked body while all he was doing was trying to work. She knew she was attractive, but not in a way that made her feel egotistical. She just didn't have self-esteem issues in that department, except on bad hair days. She'd already shed the couple of pounds she'd gained from the copious amounts of casserole and emotional eating during the first few weeks into her new living situation. So when she wondered whether Hotch had liked what he'd seen, there wasn't really a doubt in her mind. The evil-spirited side of her just enjoyed the idea of him squirming in his office chair, shaking the pictures out of his head, even though the last thing he deserved was to be bothered by thinking of her after he'd been such a supportive friend all weekend. She'd have to think of a way to thank him with her clothes on. At least the laughs this situation provided drew attention away from the church issue for a day, something that Emily needed.

Thankfully, she and Hotch had already had plenty of practice pretending away tension after worse mishaps, so their evening routine wasn't all that affected.

"Is it sad that nine times out of ten, as soon as we put the kids to bed, we watch TV?" Emily asked, stretching across the couch while Hotch lay back in the recliner.

"No. I think it's pretty common practice. What _is_ sad is that Seinfeld isn't on at this time anymore. Ever. They hate us."

"We should record it. I miss that," Emily said.

"Good idea." Hotch navigated the cable menu and set the television to record all future episodes. "There."

"Question is, what do we watch tonight?"

Emily watched the screen as Hotch flipped channels. "Ooh, _Titanic_," she marveled.

Fine by me," Hotch said, tossing the remote gently onto the coffee table.

"You know, it's a cable channel and it's late at night. They might not edit out Kate Winslet's tits," Emily cracked.

Hotch rolled his eyes, but in good humor. "Was I naïve to think we could make it through the day without talking about that?" he asked, his head lolling to the side so Emily could see his semi-tortured face.

"Definitely. It's not a big deal, though, you know."

"I feel bad."

"It wasn't your fault. And I already talked to Jack. But really, it was only a matter of time. If it would make you feel better, you could strip down right now," she said flippantly.

"And how exactly would that make me feel better?" Hotch said, frowning, but his eyes smiling.

"Well, maybe it wouldn't make you feel better, but it might make _me_ feel better. Come on, strip tease? Please? I made such a good dinner tonight. I deserve a reward."

"You're so hateful," Hotch said, unable to hold back just a little laughter.

"Ooh," Emily said, knowing Hotch could take a little more teasing, "Here come Kate's boobs. Whose are better, mine or hers? Be honest."

"That has _trick question_ written _all _over it," Hotch said, shaking his head.

"It's not, I promise. There is only one right answer."

"Fine," Hotch sighed, taking the bait. "Yours."

"Wrong-o."

"What? You _want_ me to tell you a celebrity's…you know…are better than yours?"

"Oh my God, just say it. Breasts."

"No."

"Tits."

Hotch shook his head. "Nope."

"Ta-tas. Boobs. _Boooooooobs, _Hotch. Round and perky _boobs_."

"What did I do to you?" Hotch moaned.

"We're best friends and you can't say 'boobs' around me? Come on."

"Boobs," Hotch relented. "I don't remember the last time I said that word," he added right away.

"You are such a prude," Emily giggled until she snorted. "What am I gonna do with you?"

"Whatever strikes your fancy," Hotch said deeply, wiggling his eyebrows.

Emily laughed into the couch until she cried. "Why is everything ten times funnier right now?"

"Because I've had the image of you naked in my head all day and you know it. And it makes you just giddy."

"I'm sorry, I really am," Emily said, her laughter dying down. "I didn't do it on purpose, I swear."

"Yeah, but you're enjoying the consequences. I'm just going to walk naked into your room when you least expect it. Maybe while you're sleeping, so it's the first thing you wake up to."

"You're a creep."

"Trust me. You'll enjoy it."

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review; it only takes a moment!  
**


	44. A Visitor with Poor Timing

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

Hotch typically beat Emily to the kitchen for coffee by about two minutes. Their routine went a little out of order Tuesday morning. "Hey," he said with a raised eyebrow when he spotted Emily slumped over the counter, her butt barely in a barstool, and hardly able to keep her chin propped up on her hand. Normally, she didn't come down until she was fully dressed for the day, but she was still in her pajamas.

She mumbled some sort of miserable greeting.

"Why so tired?" he asked. They hadn't stayed up particularly late the night before. Both of them had been too tired to finish the movie.

"Baby—" Emily stopped to release a giant yawn. "—was up all night. She'd fall asleep in my arms but the second I tried to put her down, she woke right up again. And she wouldn't let me sit. I _had_ to be standing. Her temperature's running a little bit high."

"I'm sorry, I didn't hear her at all. I guess I was out cold. If I would've heard, I would've swapped out with you so you could get some sleep."

Emily shrugged and shook her head. "It happens. I'm gonna take her in to see the pediatrician this morning, though. I think it might be an ear infection."

"Do her ears stink?" Hotch asked.

"A little. But no fluid or anything is coming out."

Hotch looked impressed. "How'd you know to check for that?"

"Google at three in the morning."

"Well, you're probably right about an ear infection. Are you sure you don't want me to take her in? You look like you're about to pass out."

"I am about to pass out," Emily deadpanned. "I'm going to go call in to work for the morning at least, and go back to sleep until the baby wakes up again. Then I'll take her in."

"All right. I'll try to keep the boys quiet," Hotch said.

"Thanks," Emily said with a halfhearted smile and puffy eyes. She walked past Hotch with a cup of coffee and headed back upstairs.

—

That evening, Hotch let himself inside, the boys dilly-dallying behind him. The weather was the nicest so far this year, so he left the inner door open and let the sunlight pour through the glass storm door. He was the first to make it to the living room and spot the back of Emily's head flopped over the back of the couch. She was clearly down for the count. He turned around and gave the boys a shushing finger and circled around to the front of the couch. Charlotte lay tucked into the crook of Emily's arm, asleep as well. He laughed under his breath and, as gingerly as he could, pried the baby away. Emily's mouth hung wide open in her deep sleep, and she didn't wake up from the baby being taken away. However, Charlotte shrieked halfway between Emily and Hotch, and that yanked Emily instantly from her slumber.

"Sorry," Hotch murmured.

"She _just_ went back to sleep," Emily moaned.

"I'm sorry, I was just trying to help," Hotch said, already on the defensive. He realized his tone and tried to neutralize it again. Henry and Jack stood a few feet away, watching and listening.

"I know," Emily said, hand on her forehead, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. You just surprised me." She looked up desperately at Charlotte, who now screamed in Hotch's ear when he held her against his shoulder and patted her back.

"It's okay," Hotch said dismissively. "Would you rather take the baby again or do dinner?"

"Psssshhhh." Emily smacked her hands on her thighs as she got up. "I don't know. Dinner, I guess. Maybe you can find a way to calm her. I'm out of tricks."

"Why don't you guys change out of your school shoes and go play outside?" Hotch suggested to Henry and Jack over the wails of agony. "Jack, help Henry, okay? Get him his shoes with the Velcro so you don't have to tie them."

"'Kay," Jack answered. The boys trotted off to the front door again to change shoes.

"So I take it you didn't go back in to work today?" Hotch said, bouncing gently on his feet as he walked after Emily into the kitchen. If he were to guess, he would say she hadn't even gotten in a shower that day.

"No, I'm not going to drop off their barely-alive child at daycare. I'll just suffer the consequences at work. Plus, I don't know…I couldn't bear to leave her. How sad is that?"

"Not sad at all," Hotch answered, leaning against the kitchen counter while Emily rifled through the fridge.

"Double ear infection, by the way. You were right."

"No, _you_ were right."

"Semantics. Where did that ground beef go?" Emily asked.

"The stuff that was in the fridge? I threw it out this morning. It was going bad."

"Already? Seriously? That's all we had out. Everything else is frozen." Emily opened the cupboards in search of an alterntive.

"I'm sorry," Hotch said. He nudged Charlotte's head against his shoulder and, with his free palm, gently massaged her ear in circles. "Do we have macaroni or something?"

"No, I was an idiot and I ate it for lunch. Shit," she whispered. "I was hoping we could make it till tomorrow for groceries. I should have gone Saturday morning." Emily sighed and watched the boys run to the back door.

"Then let's just do pizza or something. I don't think either one of us wants to make a trip to the store right now," Hotch said.

Emily nodded and dug her phone out of her pocket. "She needs her next dose of antibiotics right about now. Wait—" Emily stared at Hotch, then at the baby, whose screams had been downgraded to a mild fuss. "What did you do? She stopped crying."

"I'm massaging her ear. Try it." Hotch moved his hand out of the way so Emily could try.

"Hang on. While she's not screaming…" Emily grabbed a bottle of amoxicillin from behind Hotch and a syringe. The baby swallowed the sickly pink substance readily. Hotch continued to massage Charlotte's ear until Emily was ready to try.

"Why didn't anyone tell me this? I could still have all my hearing had I known this," Emily marveled as she mimicked Hotch and the baby remained calm. "And more importantly," she added quickly, "she wouldn't have been so miserable all day."

"Sorry, I assumed you knew," Hotch said. He watched with a set face but bright eyes as Emily practiced this new technique. It seemed to him that they'd been this close quite a few times lately. Hugs rarely seemed out of order anymore, so he slipped his free arm around Emily and ran his fingers up and down her back in a soft scratching motion.

"I feel so stupid," Emily mumbled, nestling against Hotch's chest. Chills coursed through her body at the touch of his fingers and as she breathed in his familiar cologne.

"You shouldn't. You're doing great."

Emily watched Charlotte's eyes droop shut, and her own started to do the same. The light scratching suddenly made her back tickle in at least three spots. She chose one. "A little higher."

"Hmm?"

Emily realized Hotch's cheek was against her hair. And if she wasn't mistaken, his eyes were probably closed, too. He sounded distant.

"A little higher, please?" she repeated.

"Oh." Hotch obliged, moving his hand higher on Emily's back, unaware of exactly what he was doing to her body.

"That feels like heaven," Emily groaned. "A little harder." She peeked at the baby and, seeing that she was asleep, ceased he ear massage and slipped both her arms around Hotch's middle. "To the left. Oh—that's it."

Hotch chuckled. "I fully expect reciprocation, just so you know," he said.

"Of course. In what form?" she teased.

"_I _was thinking a back scratch. But if you have other ideas…" he quipped right back.

"I shouldn't be teasing you, should I? You're too nice. Thank you. This has to be the third time in the last week that you've saved me."

"I do it under the full understanding that when I need you, you'll be there. That's all."

Emily was rediscovering a strong urge to throw caution to the wind and just get it over with—take the dive with Hotch, remaining confident that nothing could tear them apart, that there was no danger in them being together, that only good could come of it. Her tongue darted out from between her lips to wet them.

"Do you smell that?" Hotch asked suddenly, his nails still setting off goose bumps on every inch of Emily's skin.

"Smell what?" She snapped out of her momentary stupor. She sniffed. "I don't smell anything."

"How can you not smell that? It's right in front of your face. Somebody's poopy."

"Well, it's not me," Emily said, the heat rushing out of her body with the talk of excrement, even though Hotch's fingers still scratched delightfully her back.

"Should we wake her up and change her, or let her sleep in a dirty diaper?"

"Please," Emily said bluntly, "she never sits in a dirty diaper for more than two minutes. Not on my watch, anyway. She can handle it once. I'd feel worse for waking her right now than I would for her getting a diaper rash, to be honest. I can't take any more crying."

"I'm kind of with you on that."

Emily, accepting that the moment had passed, and feeling confident that that was for the best, pulled away from Hotch, ready to get back to the task of ordering dinner. But somehow his eyes lured hers in and she found herself unable to look anywhere else. So she didn't resist when he flattened his palm against her back and drew her back in. An inquiring look crossed her eyes for only a brief moment, and then they shut of their own volition as her nose just touched his cheek.

Both of them jumped when a sharp knock sounded at the door.

"Shit, I left the front door open," Hotch hissed, trying to show no emotion on his face.

"What's the big deal?" Emily asked, temporarily forgetting what it was they were just about to do. "Who is it?" She turned to gain Hotch's view to the front door. There stood their social worker, staring right at them through the single glass pane, and looking none too pleased.

**A/N: Please leave a review! No account needed.**


	45. Another Visitor with Poor Timing

Emily refrained from commenting on their social worker's timing, smiling and waving instead. She and Hotch headed to the door to let her inside.

"Mr. Hotchner, Ms. Prentiss," Karen said, nodding at them both. "Nice to see you again."

"Very nice to see you, too," Hotch said with a small smile, while Emily stood in front of him, dumbfounded and trying not to look like it. "Come in, please."

"Thank you."

"Can I get you something to drink?" Emily offered as they passed through the kitchen.

"No, thank you. I'd rather get down to business."

Hotch motioned for Karen to choose a seat. She took the loveseat, so Hotch and Emily took the couch, leaving a respectable distance between themselves. Hotch still held Charlotte against his shoulder.

"So…" Karen started as she pulled their file from her briefcase. "Charlotte's sleeping, I see?" she asked with a curt smile.

"Yes," Emily answered.

"And healthy?"

Hotch and Emily eyed each other with caution while Karen was bent over her papers. Hotch gave Emily a resigned nod that told her he was for the honesty policy, but Emily looked too frightened. Hotch stepped in. "She came down with an ear infection last night. We've got her on antibiotics now, though. She actually just fell asleep."

"Is this the first time she's been sick?" Karen asked Hotch.

Emily's stomach lurched. "Yes," she said with haste, but at least she knew it was sincere.

"How about Henry?"

"He's out back playing with Jack," Hotch informed her.

"Oh, that's not what I meant. I would like to talk to him, but not at the moment. I was just asking if he's been healthy."

"He did have a stomach bug not long after your first visit, but it only lasted a couple of days. Nothing since then," Hotch replied.

"And when the children are sick, do you take them to a doctor?"

"Yes," Hotch and Emily said at exactly the same time.

"I mean, clearly with Charlotte, since she got antibiotics, but the same with Henry."

"And how are they sleeping?"

"Fine, except for when they've been sick," Emily said.

"Perfectly understandable."

Emily gave a nearly inaudible sigh of relief and made eye contact with Hotch while Karen took more notes. Hotch gave her the warmest look he could, trying to tell her with his eyes that she could calm down. He wished he could take her hand, put an arm around her, do something protective, but that was out of the question.

"What do you do for childcare? Are you both still working full time?"

"Yes," Hotch said, stepping in. "They go to daycare at the same place they did before their parents passed."

"All right. Before I talk to Henry, I'd like to talk about you two—" She stopped at a pounding on the sliding glass door. Henry was flattening his little hands repeatedly against it. Once he had everyone's attention, he added a shriek. Emily bolted to the door and let him inside.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?" she asked, crouching down and opening up her arms. He leaped into them.

"Jack took my wock!"

"Your _rock_?" Emily asked.

"Uh-huh," Henry whined.

"Okay," Emily said shakily. She felt the social worker's eyes on her as she tried to figure out how to handle the situation. She had no problem with Hotch watching her parenting by now. But Jack and Henry rarely had spats, so this wasn't a common issue, so Karen's assessment of her parenting skills made her nervous. But she thought about what she would do if no one else were in the room. Before Hotch could beat her to it, she called Jack inside. He came trotting up to her. "Did you take something from Henry?"

"No," Jack said, his eyes on the floor as Emily shut the door behind him.

"Jack, I need you to tell the truth," Hotch said. "Henry said you took a rock from him. Is that true?"

Jack pouted and dug a rock from his jeans pocket, dropping it on the floor.

"Jack, that's not where rocks go. You know that. Go put it back outside, please," Emily said. She sat down on the couch with Henry clinging to her and wished for two seconds that Karen would lean over to write something again. She had the most frustrated look built up inside of her that she needed to share with Hotch. She needed another soothing look from him. Everyone was silent while Jack opened the door and tossed the rock outside.

"What do you say to Henry?" Hotch asked Jack as he sat down between him and Emily.

"Sorry, Henry," Jack said rather unapologetically.

Hotch debated letting Jack stay downstairs for the remainder of the meeting, but he remembered the dirt Jack had on him and Emily and thought it best not to trust his big mouth, to risk him spilling the beans. "You need to go up to your room and wait there."

"But Daddy…"

"You heard me." Hotch pointed at the stairs and didn't breathe again until Jack was all the way up the stairs. He moaned the whole way up. "Sorry," Hotch said sheepishly to Karen.

To his surprise, she grinned. "That's all right. Are you okay, Henry?" she asked softly.

"Henry, can you talk to this nice lady for me?" Emily asked, turning him around in her lap.

He let her turn him but leaned sideways into her chest.

"Are you okay, Henry?" Karen asked.

He nodded.

"Are you feeling good today?" He nodded again. "Did you have a nice big dinner?" He shook his head.

"We were just getting around to that," Emily tried to explain. "We're just running a little behind with the baby being sick and all."

"Henry, do you like your daycare?" Karen continued, ignoring Emily's explanation. He nodded and buried his face in Emily's chest. "Looks like he's all done."

"Sorry," Hotch said. "He's a shy little guy."

"That's okay. I don't need to talk to him anymore, anyway. There's only so much a two-year-old can tell me. I wanted to talk to you two, though. About your relationship with one another. Now, if I recall correctly, and my file is accurate, then you said you were not romantically involved. Is that still true?"

Though there was a foot between them, Hotch could feel Emily tense up at this question, so he dove in. He knew she was beyond terrified right now. "Yes. That's still true." He decided to let Karen mention what she saw just a few minutes ago if she chose to. Thankfully, she didn't mention it directly.

"I'd just like to reiterate the importance of a stable household. Henry and Charlotte seem to be adjusting just fine, judging from the information you've given me, assuming it's the truth. This is good news. But it also means that you need to take the utmost care in maintaining an environment that isn't strained, and not jumping into anything you're not certain you can commit to."

Emily nodded. If she had a tail, it would have been tucked between her legs.

"It's not my job to judge your relationship with one another, whatever that may be, or whatever that may become. But it is my job to judge your relationships with the children. And your relationship with each other affects your relationships with the children. So you can see my concern."

"Of course. What you saw when you got here, it was nothing," Hotch said. He knew Emily would probably threaten to kill him later for bringing it up when it seemed that they were in the clear. Little did he know, Emily was realizing how much it stung to hear those words come from Hotch's mouth, expressing essentially the same sentiment she had not long ago. Hearing Hotch be so cavalier about her, though she knew it wasn't how he really felt, cut to the bone.

"I'm not here to make a judgment on what I saw," Karen said, somewhat firm, yet somewhat reassuring. "I'm here to make sure the children are happy, healthy, and in a loving household. Are those things true?"

"Save for the ear infection, yes," Emily said.

"One more thing, then. Have you taken into consideration what might happen to the children should something happen to you, Mr. Hotchner?"

Hotch didn't insist on Karen using his first name again. "I'm sorry, but what do you mean? And why just me?"

"Well, if anything were to happen to Ms. Prentiss, it makes sense that you would maintain custody of all three children, given, of course, that you get it in the first place. However, in the event that you pass away while the children are still under your care, what would happen to Jack? Would he go to other family, or to Ms. Prentiss?"

Emily's brow crinkled. It did a good job of disguising the discomfort she felt toward Hotch at that moment. They hadn't talked about that possibility, but she had the feeling she wasn't first in line to take Jack should something happen to Hotch, as much as she wanted to be. "I'm sorry, but with all due respect, Jack isn't part of this case," she said.

Karen pursed her lips. "Actually, he is in a way. Henry and Charlotte will, if things go according to plan, be growing up in the same household. They will likely form sibling-like bonds with Jack. Bonds that would make it difficult were they to be separated from Jack. I'm not advising you either way in terms of plans for Jack should something happen to you, Mr. Hotchner. But I am advising you to keep the children's best interests at heart, in any situation. And it frankly worries me that you apparently haven't done so."

"I understand," Hotch said. "Now that things are settling down, we'll be sure to address that."

"Then I don't think I have any more questions. Do you have any questions for me?"

"When will we find out? You know, the custody ruling?" Emily asked a bit too eagerly.

"It should only be a couple of days."

"Can you give us any—"

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait for official word. I can't say anything more. It's not solely my decision." Karen stood and Hotch and Emily followed suit.

"Not even a hint? Okay, I'm sorry. I get it. I'm sorry to put you on the spot like that," Emily said, hand on her forehead.

"I understand. May I see the house once more before I go?"

"Of course," Hotch said. He led the group upstairs. Halfway up, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Emily said, glad for any sort of time away from the social worker whose goal it seemed was to make Emily's life a living hell while pretending her job was only to make sure the children were all right.

She had shut the door after letting Karen in, so she had no good hint of who was behind the door. A female silhouette stood behind the glass beside the door. Emily opened up.

"Emily," her mother said. Her face was even more taut than usual.

Emily's heart skipped a beat, and certainly not in a good way. "Mother."

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review! I appreciate the time you take to leave them.**


	46. Bedtime

Emily stared wide-eyed, mouth agape, at her mother, U.S. Ambassador Elizabeth Prentiss, whom she hadn't seen or spoken to in several months. As far as Emily had known, her mother had been stationed in the Ukraine. It wasn't uncommon for them to lose touch. But Emily knew that she'd done a little more than lose touch with her mother.

"May I come in?" Elizabeth asked while Emily just stood there.

"Oh, of course, sorry." Emily stepped aside. "Listen, Mother, now is _really_ not the best time to—"

"You're not even going to ask how I knew where you lived?"

Emily's face clenched in confusion. "Good point. How _did_ you know?" Emily led her mother into the kitchen, keeping her voice down.

"When I called you and the number was out of service, I called the BAU and found out you no longer worked there. So I asked to speak with Agent Hotchner and was informed _he_ didn't work there anymore either."

"Well, that's because he retired from the Bureau and I resigned. He's with the ATF and I'm in Counter-Terrorism now."

"And why wouldn't you find it prudent to tell me this?"

Emily shrugged and stared guiltily at the tile floor. Was everyone out to shame her today? "Last time you asked me about my job, you seemed to doubt my judgment."

"And I thought we got past that."

"Once bitten, twice shy." Emily crossed her arms.

"Well," her mother went on, "I don't appreciate being blamed for this. I _am_ your mother. Whether or not you think I'll support you should have nothing to do with whether you tell me about a major career change."

"I'm sorry," Emily admitted. "It was stupid of me to think you'd never find out. But that still doesn't answer the question of how you tracked me down."

"Emily, I'm an ambassador. I got information on how a Russian bank structured its whatever-you-call-it for your technical analyst. You're asking me how I found your address?"

_And I _had_ to do the responsible thing and officially change my address_, Emily thought remorsefully. "I guess I shouldn't have made it so easy for you. Is there anything else you know about me that I'm not aware of?" she asked coldly.

Emily's mother softened considerably, surprising her daughter. "I heard one of your coworkers and her husband passed away."

Emily followed suit in warming up a little, and uncrossed her arms, sighing. "Well, she was my best friend, not just my coworker. And I was already out of the BAU when it happened, but yes. They died in a car accident in February."

"I'm very sorry, Emily. That must be hard on you." Elizabeth's hand twitched as if she were about to reach out and touch Emily's shoulder, but she didn't. This was about as sincere as interactions between the two of them got.

Emily nodded somberly. "I'm doing better. Is that all you know?" she asked, wringing her hands.

Her mother's severe eyebrows slanted. "Is there more to know?"

Emily drew and released a deep breath. She then shook her head rapidly. "You know what, this really, _really_ isn't the best time. Do you think you could come back later? Even in an hour?"

"Emily, what's going on?"

Just then, Karen and Hotch, Charlotte still with him, reached the bottom of the stairs.

"Emily, who was it—oh, Ambassador Prentiss," Hotch said, his words almost getting caught in his throat. He didn't risk giving Emily an inquiring stare. "Nice to see you. How are you?"

"I'm well, thank you. I understand you're not with the Bureau anymore. ATF, Emily told me."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Mother," Emily cut in, "This is Karen Green, our…social worker."

"Social worker?"

Emily cringed and took her mother's arm. "Can I speak with you in the other room for a minute?" she murmured.

Elizabeth huffed and followed Emily into the dining room.

"Well," Hotch said to Karen, "is there anything else you need to see?"

Karen had been watching Emily and Elizabeth exit the kitchen, but Hotch's question grabbed her attention again. "Did Ms. Prentiss' mother not know about any of this yet?"

Hotch's face went white. "To be honest, I'm…not sure. But if she didn't know it's because she's an ambassador. She was stationed overseas and must have just gotten back. Emily probably didn't want to break it to her over the phone, is my guess."

"So you and Ms. Prentiss didn't discuss this?"

"Well," Hotch started, then began to panic, "not directly."

"What about your parents, Mr. Hotchner?"

Hotch wondered why she hadn't asked that before. He supposed it had been a question irrelevant to the case until now. "Both deceased."

"Well, if you have any other close family, or if Ms. Prentiss does, I recommend not trying to hide this. It doesn't show commitment on your part."

"Believe me, Emily and I are nothing if not committed to Henry and Charlotte."

"I hope so. Well, that's all I'll need. Goodnight, Mr. Hotchner."

"Goodnight," Hotch said quietly, following Karen to the door. A frown formed easily on his face as soon as the door was shut, and grew deeper as he overheard Emily and her mother practically hissing at each other in the dining room. He made himself scarce, deciding to put the baby to bed and check on the boys.

—

"You took her _children_?" Elizabeth asked in disbelief.

"It was clearly what our friends wanted, Mother. It was in their will. What would _you_ have done?"

"I would have thought about my life, Emily! Do you realize how many prospects you've thrown away? Unless you plan on marrying _him_, then how are you going to find yourself a husband? And what about your career? Children will limit that severely. You realize that, don't you?"

"Oh, please. _I_ never stopped you." Emily rolled her eyes, already on the defensive again. "And no, I don't plan on marrying him. We're doing this as friends."

"Emily, I always knew you were a bit idealistic. But never to a fault. Not like this."

"My best friend died and I moved in and agreed to raise children with a man with whom I wasn't on good terms. Idealism is what's getting me _through_ this, Mother. The belief that this will all work out for the best, because if it doesn't, then I'm screwed. If I were a realist then I wouldn't have taken the kids in the first place."

"And that would have been a bad thing?"

Emily scowled. "I don't need this. Not from you. And not right now. I just had a day from hell and I don't need it to get any worse. I'd be more than happy to take your condescension another time. But you need to leave now."

With an utterly offended look in her eyes, Elizabeth turned on her heel and went straight for the front door. "I've always admired your dedication, Emily, even to things that I wouldn't have chosen for you. The BAU, for instance. But this is just—" She didn't know how to finish her sentence, so she shrugged. "Goodnight."

Emily didn't answer, just shut the door gently and tried to bat away the tears that were already getting in line to take the fall down her cheeks. Needing to distract herself from this moment in any way possible, she went to the fridge and looked at a magnet from a local pizza place. She ordered for delivery and fought the urge to chuck her phone across the kitchen when she hung up. She waited a few minutes to be sure her mother was gone, then let herself out onto the front porch. As much as she would have loved a cigarette, she felt it was best that she had flushed the last pack. She wouldn't put it past herself to get hooked for the first time after a night like tonight.

She hoped Hotch would wait a while before coming out to talk to her, as she was certain he would eventually do. She needed time to work through her frustration on her own before he tried to reason with her. She began to form a list in her head of all the things that had gone wrong that day, not even counting Charlotte being sick.

Their social worker probably just left the house under the impression that Emily wasn't committed enough to raising Henry and Charlotte to tell her own mother. She'd seen Jack fight with Henry, even though they normally got along perfectly fine. And even though Emily thought she'd handled the situation acceptably, the last thing she wanted Karen to see was any sort of chaos involving the children. And now she probably thought Emily and Hotch were fooling around, to boot. If that was the case, then she saw Emily and Hotch as liars—the last kind of people who should be raising two young children. And then she'd uncovered the fact that Emily and Hotch had no plans involving Jack, and probably assumed from that fact that the two of them had no formal plans laid out for Henry and Charlotte, either. And to top it all off, they had failed to provide dinner to the children before the surprise visit. Even though it was only six-thirty now, and that wasn't such an unreasonable time to eat dinner, it wasn't something that Emily felt was helping the case. Yesterday, she wouldn't have been nearly as shaken by their second surprise visit. But after having stayed up all night with a sick baby, and after the no-dinner snafu and Jack and Henry getting into a spat, Emily couldn't help but think that the social worker couldn't have showed up on a worse night. Emily hadn't even gotten to thinking about her mother before Hotch came outside.

Emily pulled her unwashed hair back to her neck, suddenly feeling disgusting. She thanked her lucky stars that Hotch didn't immediately try to start up a conversation. She honestly didn't know if she could participate in one at the moment. He just sat on the porch railing, hands on his knees, right across from where she sat with her face in her hands.

"Everything's going to be okay, you know," Hotch said after a good five minutes.

"You don't know that," Emily mumbled.

"Maybe I don't, but I can be really confident that I do. How's that?"

Emily shook her head and raised it out of her hands. Her eyes were red and wet and she didn't let Hotch see them directly. "Not good enough. I need to know what's going to happen."

"And we will. In a couple of days. We'll go to court, the judge will look at us, grant us custody, and move on to the next case."

"Please don't."

"Emily, you're far too paranoid about this. Social workers' hard cases are the drug addicts, the drunks. We're an easy case."

"You saw her face when she got here," Emily countered. "She knew what almost happened. She was upset and she probably had the right to be, about that anyway. We went from being her easy case to her oh-shit case, just like that. And from there on out it was like she had it in for us."

Hotch sighed and slumped over, reaching for a hand, but Emily crossed her arms and shook her head slowly. "This is what keeps getting us into trouble."

"What? Supporting each other?"

"You. Being sweet. While I freak out. It's a pretty bad combination, you have to admit."

A tiny chuckle escaped Hotch's lips before he could stop it. "Would you rather I turn the other cheek, pretend nothing's wrong?"

Emily smiled weakly, finally looking Hotch in the eye. "Maybe that would be best."

"Well, I'm sorry, but I said I would give this my all. I can't say I'm doing that if I ignore you when you're in trouble. If you have some sort of problem at work and you don't feel like talking about it, that's one thing. But if it's about the kids, it's both of us. That's the way it has to be."

"You have no idea how much I appreciate that, and how much I believe you. But that…_woman_," Emily groaned, wanting to refrain from swearing as long as she could, especially since whatever crude word could come out of her mouth wasn't truly deserved, "probably thinks you and I are together and lying about it, thinks I'm not sure about this yet because my mother obviously hadn't been informed yet, thinks Jack and Henry don't get along, probably, and thinks we have no food in the house."

"Whoa, hang on," Hotch said. "You need to turn the speculation down a notch. Sure, what she saw when she got here probably wasn't the best thing. And your mom not knowing…not great either, but _I_ know for a fact that it doesn't mean you're any less dedicated to the kids. If anything, maybe it means you're more dedicated, because you didn't want to give your mother the opportunity to badger you into changing your mind. Am I right?"

Emily nodded meekly.

"And she had no problem with what happened between the boys. She actually looked kind of impressed with how you handled it, if you ask me. And as for dinner, it's not like the kids look emaciated. And it's only what, six-thirty or seven?"

"I ordered pizza, by the way. Should be here soon." Emily's eyes wandered out onto the empty street.

"Are you even listening to me?" Hotch asked, a touch frustrated.

"Yes."

"Then do you believe me?"

"About what, exactly?"

"That you're just paranoid."

"Aaron, you can't look me in the eye and tell me tonight went well," Emily said, her voice deep as she used her last ounce of energy to choke back her tears. "Can you?"

"You're right, I can't. But I _can_ look you in the eye and tell you that I don't believe it went badly enough to make us look like unfit parents. I _can_ look you in the eye and tell you that you're extremely tired right now and your mind isn't clear enough to look at this objectively. You're blowing it all out of proportion."

Emily just stared blankly at Hotch.

"There's your supportive without the sweet," Hotch said with a shrug. "That better?"

Emily rolled her eyes. "I like it better with the sweet, but…you know…"

Hotch cocked his head. "I know. Not a good idea."

"Just not in large doses," Emily said. In an unexpected moment of weakness, she let the waiting tears slip down her face, sending her back downhill. "What if they take them away? Seriously. I don't know what I'd do."

"They won't. If you weren't exhausted and stressed out, then you'd know this." Hotch grabbed Emily by the elbow and urged her out of her chair. Shocked didn't even begin to describe how he felt when Emily slipped easily back into his arms. He locked them around her—no rubbing or scratching this time. Just a good old-fashioned bear hug. "You're being crazy."

"How are you so calm?"

"Are you hungry?" Hotch asked.

"What? What kind of question is that?"

"Just answer it."

"No. I don't think I could hold anything down right now, to be honest."

Hotch felt Emily's breath on his neck, which made it that much harder to keep this friendly, to keep it from progressing like it had earlier. "Then skip dinner and go to bed."

"No. It's not even dark yet."

"Then shut your curtains."

"I've gotten by on less sleep. Remember the BAU?" Emily insisted.

"Sure, but neither of us work those hours anymore. We've gotten used to six hours on non-baby nights, maybe four broken-up hours on baby nights. You were up the whole night. With the baby screaming in your ear. And then you spent the whole day with her screaming in your ear."

"I'm not tired. I'm fine. I got a little nap in this afternoon."

"If you can say your ABCs backwards, then I'll believe you. Otherwise it's bedtime," Hotch said with mock authoritativeness.

"Screw you," Emily moaned, pushing Hotch's chest and walking away.

"Okay, if you can say them forwards, I'll let you stay up," Hotch said, following Emily into the house.

"A-B-C-D-E-F-U," Emily cracked as they walked through the kitchen.

Hotch chuckled. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Emily said as she walked away. "And thanks. Again."

"No need."

"Daddy?" Jack asked, coming around the corner. Emily brushed her hand over his head as they crossed paths.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Isn't it A-B-C-D-E-F-G?"

**A/N: You know the drill. Thanks for reading! :)**


	47. One More Visitor

**A/N: Thank you again for all the reviews! It's so nice to hear what so many of you think of the story, especially since it's pretty divided between those of you who can't wait for Hotch and Emily to get together, and those of you who are more into the slower pace and endless sexual tension.**

**Enjoy!**

"Emily was just being silly," Hotch said to Jack, thinking quickly. "You're right, G comes after F."

"Okay. I'm hungry."

"I know. Dinner will be here soon. Pizza," Hotch said with a grin, ruffling Jack's hair. He squatted down next to him and studied his smile up close. "Guess what."

"What?" Jack asked, eyes wide.

"I love you." Hotch laid a kiss on his son's forehead, then wrapped his arms snugly around him, picking him up as he stood.

"I love you too, Daddy." Jack reached around his dad's neck. "Can we go to the park?"

"Sorry, kiddo. Not tonight. Charlotte's sick and Emily went to bed."

"She went to bed already?" Jack asked in amazement.

"Well, she didn't get to sleep last night because she was taking care of the baby. You'd be tired too, wouldn't you?"

Jack shrugged. He hadn't quite grasped understanding other people's feelings entirely yet. Only on select and usually inconvenient occasions, it seemed. "Who came over?"

"You mean Henry and Charlotte's social worker?" Hotch sat down on the couch, Jack in his lap, and Henry climbed backwards down the stairs to claim Hotch's other knee.

"No, after that," Jack clarified.

"Oh. That was Emily's mom. I'm sure you'll meet her someday," Hotch said, leaning back a bit and pulling both boys into his chest and closing his eyes.

"Why are you going to sleep, Daddy?" Jack asked, using one of his thumbs to peel Hotch's eye open. Henry reached up to do the same.

"Just resting my eyes. Or trying, until _someone_ poked me with their little fingers," Hotch said playfully, giving Jack and Henry each a warning glare that just sent Jack into a fit of giggles and Henry's face into Hotch's shirt. The doorbell rang. "Sounds like our pizza's here. Who wants pizza?"

"ME!" Jack shouted.

"Me too!" Henry piped in, jumping down from Hotch's lap.

"Shhhhh," Hotch said. "Emily's trying to sleep. We need to be quiet."

Hotch dug a twenty out of his wallet, hoping Emily hadn't ordered more than twenty dollars' worth of pizza, because that was all the cash he had on him. He opened the door, the boys bouncing up and down behind him, to find Garcia standing at the door with three coffee cups in a cup holder in one hand, and a gargantuan purse on her other arm. "You're not pizza," Hotch said with a light grin, opening the door.

"Sorry to disappoint," Garcia said brightly. "But I come bearing gifts in a different food group." She followed Hotch into the kitchen and set the coffee down for the time being. "For you two," she said to Henry and Jack, crouching down with two small boxes she took out of her purse.

"What?" Jack asked, holding his hands out.

"Cupcakes, my good sirs. Can they have them right now, Hotch?" Garcia said, looking up at him.

"All right, but at the table," Hotch said to the boys, who took their boxes and scampered into the dining room. "You're wiping the frosting off their faces," Hotch said with a smirk, helping Henry into his booster seat. He found a seat for himself and Garcia did the same.

"Deal," Garcia said. "Where's Miss Emily?"

"Sleeping. Well, she just went up a couple of minutes ago, but in all honesty she might have just passed out. I don't know. She was up all night with the baby."

"Yeah, we texted back and forth a bit today. She must be bushed. Poor baby. Babies, that is. Ear infections are no fun."

"Charlotte seems to be doing better. And I think Emily would have been okay to stay up longer had the social worker not dropped by for her second and final visit," Hotch said.

Garcia's jaw dropped. "_She did not_…How did it go?"

Hotch glanced pointedly at Jack and Henry, the latter of whom was having trouble with the cardboard box. Hotch opened it up for him and set his green frosted cupcake on the table.

"Oh, right. Can you speak in code? I need to know what happened." Garcia suddenly pointed a finger in the air to tell Hotch to hang on, then hurried into the kitchen and came back with two coffees. "For you," she said, handing Hotch the other.

"Decaf?"

"Oh, no, sorry. Emily's is decaf if you want it."

"Actually, come to think of it, I need the caffeine," Hotch said. "My turn up with the baby. Thank you," he added, tipping the cup to Garcia before taking a sip.

"You're quite welcome. So tell me how it went. On a scale of one to ten, one being awful, ten being excellent."

Hotch's eyes drifted shut for a moment and he shrugged his shoulders. "A five, probably."

Garcia looked like someone had just murdered a small animal right in front of her. "Oh no. What happened?" She covered her mouth with one hand.

Hotch decided that the near kiss between him and Emily should remain private unless Emily decided to tell Garcia. "Sick baby, kids weren't fed yet, these two had a little spat, which was no big deal...but then she asked if I had plans for—" Hotch eyed Jack, who licked frosting from his cupcake. "—in case something were to happen to me, and if those plans involved E-M-I-L-Y. I made the mistake of telling her we hadn't talked about it yet, which just made us look non-committal."

Garcia cringed in genuine anguish.

"And then—"

"It gets worse?" Garcia moaned.

"Her M-O-M showed up unannounced, and learned about the whole situation tonight."

"Em hadn't told her?"

Hotch shook his head. "Not that I can really blame her, though. Their relationship seems kind of strained. I feel like a gossip now. We probably shouldn't be talking about that part. Maybe another night, when she can tell you about it?"

"Of course," Garcia whispered, nodding sadly. "Do you think they're going to…" She eyed the boys just like Hotch had.

"I honestly don't know. I don't think they will, but you never know." He knew that the fact that the social worker probably thought he and Emily were lying about the extent of their relationship definitely put them in hotter water, but still didn't feel it prudent to mention it.

"When will you find out?" Garcia asked, tears rimming her eyes.

"A couple of days. But don't…get worked up about it," Hotch said tentatively, realizing Emily was the only person he knew how to comfort. He wasn't nearly as close with anyone else. He felt he hadn't said the right thing to Garcia, but didn't know how to correct himself. "Especially if you talk to her. She needs some optimism. She's a wreck."

Garcia nodded understandingly. "Of course. I think I might go peek in and see if she's still up. She might need someone to talk to besides you. No offense, but you're the only adult she gets to talk to about these things. I'm sure you do a great job, but, you know…"

"I don't have enough X-chromosomes, I know," Hotch joked. "Go for it."

Garcia nodded quickly and got up from her chair. She took one step back toward the kitchen, but went toward Hotch instead. "Come here."

One of Hotch's thick eyebrows slanted severely.

"Come here," Garcia repeated, flapping her arms open.

"I'm okay," Hotch insisted.

"I don't care. You can't refuse a hug three times. It's just bad form."

Hotch rolled his eyes lightheartedly and stood up to let Garcia squeeze the life out of him. He patted her awkwardly on the back.

"You're an under-hugger," Garcia said. "More oomph, please."

Hotch chuckled and returned Garcia's hug a little more enthusiastically.

"You're doing a fantastic job," Garcia said. "I honestly couldn't think of two better parents for the little ones besides their own. Now I'm off to check on Emily," she said, leaving Hotch no room to brush off her compliment. She left him and the boys and headed through the kitchen and toward the stairs.

"Jack, slow down or you're gonna get sick," she heard Hotch warn. She smirked and tiptoed to up Emily's bedroom door, which was ajar but let no light out. Hotch might not have been kidding about Emily passing out. She pushed it open as slowly as possible. "Em?" she whispered.

"I'm awake, Emily grumbled in the dark. She sounded stuffy. "C'mon in."

**A/N: Please leave a review! Good or not so good, long or short. Always interested in hearing your thoughts. No account needed. :)**


	48. Emily's Room

Garcia pushed the door open all the way and let herself into Emily's room, stepping out of her heels and leaving them and her purse at the door.

"Do you want me to shut the door?"

"No, that's okay," Emily answered. She sat up in her bed and squinted against the light from the hall. "Actually, yeah. If you could. Or at least most of the way."

"Of course," Garcia said, shutting the door quietly and cloaking them both in darkness, save for the sliver of light that got in under the door.

"Sorry, I have a migraine coming on and the light just—"

"Say no more," Garcia said. "Did you take something?"

"No, I was hoping I could just fall asleep," Emily said. She sniffed. "Sorry, this is really weird. I can turn a light on."

"Weird, sure. But it's fine. May I join you, madame?" Garcia asked seductively, approaching the other side of Emily's bed.

"Yeah, yeah, come on in," Emily said with a small laugh. "What brought you by? Aaron didn't call you, did he?"

"Nope, just decided to stop by. I do love that you call him Aaron, though," Garcia said, sitting on top of the covers and searching in the dark for Emily's nearest hand. She founded it and interlaced fingers with her.

"Well, with a few exceptions, he hasn't called me Prentiss in ages," Emily said. "I suppose it's only fair that I don't call him Hotch."

"It's still so cute, though. But I'm not here to not-so-subtly remind you that you and Hotch are like leading stars in a chick flick that make me want to throw something at the TV screen. I came to offer assistance."

"In what?"

"Absolutely anything. Sounds like you just need to let it out. I can be a shoulder if you need it."

"Thanks, but I already tried that. It went well for about a minute, but trying to keep it quiet just made my head hurt so I stopped. That and crying is so exhausting."

"Especially when you're running on how many hours of sleep?"

"Maybe two total. Which is just making everything seem like a bigger deal than it is, I'm sure. Aaron tried to talk me down earlier but I don't really think it worked. I heard you guys chatting down there. I assume he told you what went down tonight?"

"He did. And he's really worried about you, you know. And I'm not telling you that because it sounds terribly romantic to me, which it does, because that's not what's important now. But you should know how much he cares for you, in any sense of the word."

"I do, I do. The past few days he's been…amazing."

"The past few days? What else has happened?" Garcia asked, surprised.

"Just me having little meltdowns. I don't know what's wrong with me besides my hormones right now, but everything keeps setting me off and he keeps having to calm me down. It's getting old and it makes me feel…not like myself anymore. Since when can't I keep my shit together? I mean, out of you, me, and JJ, I was always the cold one, right? It took a lot to make me cry."

"Well, that's because you happened to be good at compartmentalizing and it was something the job called for. JJ wasn't quite as good as it, and God knows I'm not good at it at all. But you're not in the same line of work anymore. You're not faced with the same gruesome stuff. So the scariest stuff you deal with is at home, and it's in an environment where you don't _have_ to be all cold and emotionless. You can be more open, especially with Hotch, right?"

"Yeah, I guess. This whole day, I felt like such a bad…you know…"

"Mom."

Emily rolled along as if she hadn't heard Garcia. Even though her "mommy" conversation with Jack was fresh in her mind and almost made her smile, the topic still made her feel somewhat uneasy. "Anyway, I got maybe an hour of sleep this morning before taking Charlotte to the doctor. And then she still spent the whole day screaming. I didn't even shower, Garcia. And I'm not complaining—I mean, there have already been days where I've just said 'bag it' and not showered because someone held me up in the morning, or it's been a weekend day where I just didn't feel like it. But today, of all days! I look disgusting. And then Aaron gets home and he's got the baby quiet within a minute of taking her, which makes me feel even more like I have no right to be a parent. Not that I'm mad at him—I'd rather feel inadequate than have Charlotte in pain, of course. But at least the social worker didn't know that the baby cried all day and Aaron was the one who came to the rescue, and that I could have saved the baby all that pain had I swallowed my pride and called Aaron for help earlier in the day. So she didn't find out what a failure I am through all that, at least. But she did see our little moment through the front door, which I'm sure didn't help matters—"

"What little moment?"

Emily froze. "Ah. I take it he didn't tell you about that part…no, he wouldn't. He's got a filter, unlike me."

"Miss Emily," Garcia said in a foreboding tone.

Emily sighed. "Promise you won't judge me?"

"Of course."

"He was showing me how to massage the baby's ears to keep her from crying," she murmured, "and he kind of pulled me in close and held me and it felt so…safe. I felt stupid at the same time, because he did in one minute what I hadn't been able to do all day. But I was okay with feeling stupid because…I don't even know how to put this into words without laughing at myself," Emily said abruptly.

"You were okay with feeling stupid because being in his arms felt absolutely perfect?" Garcia ventured.

"How did you know that?"

"Didn't you learn a long time ago to stop asking me that question?" Garcia said with a smirk she knew Emily couldn't see. But she knew it came through in her voice. "Am I right, though?"

"Yeah," Emily answered in a tiny, ashamed voice. "And I was ready to go for it, to say, 'Screw it. This is what's supposed to happen,' you know? And then he commented on Charlotte's poopy diaper. And you know what? _That_ didn't even ruin the moment. Even though we swore we were done being stupid, we _still _almost kissed."

"You did?" Garcia said, trying not to sound too hurt at the word "almost."

"Yeah, and the social worker got a really nice view."

"Ouch. What did she say?"

Emily huffed. "She insisted it wasn't her job to judge our relationship with each other," she said, pausing when they both heard a knock at the front door, then dismissing it when she realized it must be the pizza finally arriving. "She said it's her job to make sure the kids are in a stable, loving environment. So on top of feeling inadequate all day, I felt like a selfish bitch when she said that. What is it going to take for me to remember that this is about the kids, not me?"

"Well, of course, what's good for the kids comes first. Any parent would tell you that. But if what's good for you is _also_ what's good for the kids, then you shouldn't deny yourself of that just for the sake of denying yourself. You're _allowed_ to be happy, Em. Especially if you being happy aligns so well with the kids' best interests. I know I said before that this is your decision and I would try not to push you either way because I'm not the one who has to live with the consequences—you and Hotch and the kids do. But Em, if it felt so perfect, even despite the poopy talk, and despite feeling gross because you hadn't had a shower, and despite feeling inadequate like all mommies do pretty much every day…If the _only_ thing that ruined that moment was someone interrupting it, then why are you still denying it? "

"Because even though the social worker said she wasn't here to pass judgment on our relationship or lack thereof, I know she was. And when she asked us if our relationship status had changed since the last time she was here, we said no, and it must have made us look like complete liars. If I were her, I wouldn't have believed us. Not after seeing what she saw when she got here. I mean, what else could that possibly look like besides what it _actually _was? So not only does she think we're fooling around with each other, but she thinks we're lying to her about it. And then Aaron jumps in and says, 'What you saw when you got here, it was nothing,' which just made it all look more suspicious."

"Wow, Hotch was right," Garcia said flatly.

"Right about what?"

"You are overreacting. _To the extreme_."

"Maybe about the whole thing with the kids not being fed, or with Jack and Henry fighting, but not this. Come on, Garcia. Admit it. This looks bad."

"It might not look great, but do you really think they'd deny you guys guardianship because of that? This lady deals with drunks and junkies and child abusers, sweetie."

"That's what Hotch said. But that doesn't mean we get off scot free just because we're clean and sober and don't abuse the kids."

"True, but the kids are healthy—save for the ear infection, and those are common. They're doing fine. And if _that_ was apparent from the social worker, then that's what she's going to go by. It was kind of late in the day when she showed up. I'm sure you were her last case, or one of them, and she'd just had a long day, like the one you're having. She probably didn't mean much by what she said."

"She brought up other valid points, too, though. It wasn't just about me and Aaron. She also wanted to know what Aaron planned to do with Jack if anything happened to _Aaron_, and we haven't even thought about that. At least, I haven't. And from the look on Aaron's face, he hadn't either."

"You'd be willing to take Jack, wouldn't you?"

"In a heartbeat," Emily said without hesitation. "But I doubt that's what Hotch has in mind. I'm sure Jessica's been listed in his will ever since Haley died, and he hasn't re-thought that since we got Henry and Charlotte. The social worker insinuated the three kids will get attached and _them _getting split up could be just as detrimental to Henry and Charlotte as it would be if they lost one of us. And she's probably right. At least, once they get old enough to remember things."

"Did you and Hotch talk about it afterward?"

Emily shook her head. "He practically shoved me into bed. But I think that even though Henry and Charlotte shouldn't face any more instability, Jessica is still the logical choice to take Jack because she's family. As much as Hotch and I get along, we're not family. Blood is thicker than water."

"I doubt this decision is as simple for him as you're making it out to be," Garcia said. "I don't think he makes snap decisions when it comes to his son."

"He did when he agreed to do this with me," Emily said matter-of-factly.

"True, but he already knew Jack was crazy about you."

"Well, I don't think that's going to help matters here," Emily said.

"Is this something you want?" Garcia asked with heightened curiosity. "To be listed in Hotch's will to take Jack? Or maybe even adopt him when you adopt Henry and Charlotte, which I have no doubt you'll be able to do?" she embellished.

"I honestly hadn't really thought about it until the social worker brought it up. Which just makes us look even more non-committal. Oh, and we haven't even gotten to my wonderful mother yet. It gets even better."

"Hey, don't change the subject," Garcia chided. "If this is something you're thinking about, then you need to let Hotch know. Because if it's uncomfortable for him, or if he doesn't want to hurt you by picking Jessica over you—not as if it's some sort of contest, but you know what I mean—then he might not bring it up. He might just deal with it on his own, as in, not deal with it at all. You need to tell him this. Given that you're a mother figure to Jack, this is your decision, too."

"No. No. If he doesn't bring it up to me, it's because he thinks Jessica's the best choice. And if that's what he thinks, then he's right. He's the one who knows what's best for Jack. If he asks me, then I'll be honest. Otherwise, it's totally up to him."

"I still think you should bring it up, but you know what, let's not think about Hotch dying. He's safe in the house for the next twelve or thirteen hours and he's in good health. Hopefully he doesn't fall in the kitchen or something. So you guys have time to work that out. Now what happened with your mom?"

"Imagine the worst possible scenario and you've got it."

"Wow, sweetie, you are super morbid. I'm trying to send some optimistic vibes your way but they're just bouncing right back. Lower the force field, please."

"Sorry," Emily sighed. "You just don't _know_ my mother. Pretty much all we ever do when we talk is argue. She hasn't been a big part of my life since I stopped living with her and my father, but she likes to pretend she has been. Every time I talk to her, I get these snide little comments from her insinuating that I could have done better. So I didn't even tell her I'd left the BAU. Not after all the years I'd spend defending it. So it was just a double whammy when she showed up having had just found out about my resignation, and then found out about all of this. I know it was stupid of me not to tell her, but I knew if I told her before everything had been settled, she'd just try to talk me out of it. And Aaron knew that, you know. He knew that's why I hadn't told her."

"Because he knows you inside and out," Garcia said.

"I was going more for 'My mother is so blatantly controlling that _anyone_ could understand why I wouldn't have told her.' I was _not_ going for 'One more reason Aaron and I should be together.'"

"But it fits in so nicely," Garcia said perkily. "Seriously, I could write a book on why you two should be together. The list is getting really long. Surely long enough to fill up a book. People would eat it up."

"People like happy endings," Emily deadpanned.

"Okay, _wow_. I have never seen this side of you. I seriously hope it's just the sleep deprivation and stress talking. This isn't the Emily I know. All this self-loathing and pessimism?"

"It's been my M.O. the past couple of days," Emily said, shrugging. "I'll try not to make a habit of it. Once we know what's going to happen with the kids, then I can calm down."

"Because you know that the court will rule in your favor. You know I'm right. And you know Hotch is right. At first, when he told me what happened, I wasn't sure. But I think hearing it all come from a crazy person's mouth just made it seem more crazy. I think everything is going to be fine."

"And you're not just saying that to make me feel better?"

Garcia released Emily's hand and scooted closer to wrap an arm around her. "Well, I am saying it to make you feel better. But I do believe it's true. How about that?"

"I can buy that," Emily said, letting her head loll onto Garcia's shoulder.

"Can you also buy the fact that you're blowing things out of proportion because you're tired?"

"Maybe. A little."

"Good girl. And can you buy the fact that you were put on this earth to be with that guy downstairs and possibly have his beautiful babies? Or are you going to keep denying yourself just so you'll feel like a better mom?"

"Garcia…" Emily sat upright again.

"Hear me out. The reason it would be a bad idea for you and Hotch to be together is because if things didn't work out, then it would probably result in you two not being able to live together anymore, which would create turmoil for the kids. Correct?"

"Correct."

"Now tell me _one_ reason things wouldn't work out. Because all signs are pointing to happily ever after."

"What we already have is so good, Garcia."

"Why not make it _perfect_, then? And you didn't tell me one reason things wouldn't work out. You just argued with me. I want my answer."

"We live together, we raise kids together, we do everything together, except, as you once said, anything that involves being naked. Speaking of naked…well, let's save that for another day. Let's just say that anything we're _not_ doing together right now is stuff I'm not sure I could do."

"Sex?"

"Yeah. I don't know if I could give him that, as much as I want to."

"So you think you'll want to have sex, and then you'll just…change your mind?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. I have no idea how people start up again after sexual abuse. I'm sure everyone's different. But I just have this fear that we would try and I just wouldn't be able to go through with it, like maybe something would trigger some sort of memory for me. Or I wouldn't enjoy myself, which means he wouldn't enjoy himself, not as much he deserves to, anyway. And then what?"

"Have you ever thought of the possibility that he doesn't care about that? I mean, come on, the guy probably hasn't gotten any since long before he and Haley got divorced. He seems pretty used to his hand. You should ask him if that would be a problem for him."

"I don't need to ask. He already told me it wouldn't be," Emily said. "And before you flip out and ask me what the hell I'm waiting for, that's only what he _says_. How he feels a year down the road when we share a bed but don't do anything in it, that could be entirely different."

"You don't know that," Garcia said softly, not knowing how to ask when and why Hotch and Emily had had this conversation.

"Exactly. I can't risk it. If we get to keep the kids, then the social worker could not have had better timing tonight. Because she reminded me that the kids need us. What he and I need is secondary. And I for one don't need anything beyond what I have right now. You were right. We're like an old married couple or something. We support each other, we get along, but we sleep in different beds, and you know what? It works great."

"What about kissing? You were able to do that, at least that one time, and it was good, no?"

"You think his sex drive is going to be sated by making out?" Emily asked incredulously. "If anything, that would just make things worse. I mean, how long can you actually make out with someone before hands start moving around? You and Kevin should test that out and tell me how long."

"Oh, not long," Garcia said simply.

"Exactly. And once things start escalating, then people form expectations for them to _keep_ escalating, and I don't know how far I can go."

Garcia heaved a giant sigh and sank down to lie on her back. "Emily, you're killing me. You have every reason in the world to be with the man you love and you're _looking_ for reasons not to be. Reasons that are most likely completely invalid. Please tell me that once you get some sleep, you'll be a little more reasonable. Just a little."

"I think I'm being perfectly reasonable about this. Maybe not about everything, but about the relationship thing, I am. I think about it all the time, even when I'm not 'crazy.'"

"I don't get your reasoning at all, Em. I really don't. But it's your life, not mine. I just hope that this choice doesn't make you resent the kids, since they're the reason you're not letting the you and Hotch thing happen."

"I could never resent the kids."

"What about yourself? Do you think you could resent yourself?"

Emily smiled faintly. "Thanks to my mother, I resent myself almost every day."

Garcia moaned. "You are far too negative to handle right now. I almost can't be in here."

Emily chuckled. "I was joking. Listen. I'm happy. I mean, today was a disaster, but if you and Hotch are right and nothing goes wrong with the kids, then I'll be fine. I love what I have. This works for me."

"What about Hotch?"

"What about him?" Emily asked.

"Well, you love him, right?"

"Pen…"

"Okay, I know you do. I'm pretty sure you've said it before, but even if you haven't, I'm not stupid. You love him. Do you think he's happy?" While Emily thought of how to answer that, Garcia decided she'd gone too far. "No, you know what? I went back into pressure mode. I'm sorry."

"It's okay."

"I'm gonna leave you alone now. You need your sleep, not my pushiness. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize. You're just fulfilling your girlfriend duties. And even though I fight with you about it, I appreciate it all the same."

"You know I'm always here, right?" Garcia asked, sitting up again.

It was Emily this time who reached out for Garcia and pulled her into a bone-crushing hug. "I know. I almost wish you would go through some sort of meltdown so I could be there for you. This feels pretty much like a one-way street right now."

"Oh, honey. I thrive on the drama. I'm salivating at all of the scandal between you two. I feel like Joyce Brothers or something. It's fantastic. Not that I wouldn't rather you make babies than drama, but if you're gonna keep your legs crossed, then this is the next best thing for Penelope Garcia. I'll bring popcorn next time." She headed to the door and picked up her shoes and purse.

Emily laughed softly. "I'll walk you out." She rolled out of bed, but Garcia held an arm out to block her from passing by.

"No you won't, you'll go to sleep. For a very long time. And maybe call in sick tomorrow and take a mental health day."

"Ha, and lose my job? No thanks."

"Okay, well—ooh! Wait! Before I go." Garcia reached into her purse, took out a gift bag, and handed it to Emily.

"If this is what I think it is—"

"Then you can thank me later," Garcia said cheerily.

"Well, guess what, we never have batteries in this house. We have two boys with toys that require them, so they're a hot commodity."

"Which is why I put an eight-pack of batteries in there too. Oh, and a gift receipt, in case pink isn't your color."

—

Upon Emily's insistence, Garcia had left the door cracked Emily she usually did in case one of the boys needed something in the middle of the night. She still wasn't sleeping half an hour later when Hotch came upstairs to get the boys bathed and ready for bed. Oddly, her insomnia was not due to the light from the hall or the pain from her migraine. She could hear the splashing and giggling from the bathroom. It was a welcome distraction from all the conflicting thoughts harassing her, the real reasons she couldn't find rest.

Things quieted down eventually when Hotch put the boys to bed. Apparently under the impression that Emily was asleep, Hotch twisted her doorknob and pulled the door all the way shut as quietly as he could.

"Leave it open," she called.

"I told the boys to come see me if they need anything," Hotch said through the door. Emily didn't answer, just rolled her eyes for no one to see. Hotch opened the door a crack again. "Are you going to be okay? I'm surprised you're not sleeping."

Not needing any more babying, Emily replied, "I'll be fine. Just can't turn my brain off."

"I think we I some Nyquil in my medicine cabinet if you wanna knock yourself out," he offered. "Otherwise I'll be downstairs watching Seinfeld if you want to join."

"Got it. Thanks again for everything."

"No more thanking. Just go to sleep."

Emily bade Hotch goodnight and, surprising herself, found sleep a few minutes later. Like a child, maybe she'd just needed her goodnights before she could fall asleep.

After what felt like only an hour or so, Jack let himself in and climbed under the covers next to Emily. She didn't wake until he poked her in the shoulder.

"Whu—Jack, what's wrong?" she asked when she snapped awake and saw the five-year-old's face right in front of hers.

"I had a bad dream," he said timidly.

"Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie." Emily rolled onto her back and drew him in close.

"Daddy said not to wake you up but I went to tell him about my dream and he was snoring."

"Was he?" Emily mumbled, already feeling herself drifting off again.

"Yup."

"Really loud?"

"Yup."

"How come you didn't wake him up?"

"Because when I tell him about a bad dream he makes me go back to bed after," Jack said, adjusting himself and jabbing Emily in the side without knowing. She winced.

"Well, you know the rules, honey. You need to sleep in your own bed."

"But there's a monster. He was in my dream."

"Exactly. In your _dream_," Emily said, lamenting the fact that she felt herself waking up again. "He's not real."

"But he looked real."

"Lots of things in our dreams look real. That's why dreams can be so scary sometimes."

"Do you have bad dreams?"

"Sometimes. But I know they're just dreams. So you can tell me about your dream, but then I need you to go back to your own bed, okay?"

"I forgot what he looked like."

Emily sighed. "Then why are you still scared?"

"Because he said he was under my bed."

Emily knew that if she got out of bed to do a monster check, she'd be up the rest of the night. Not willing to go another night without sleep (or skip another day of work as a result), she caved. The boy was almost too sweet to resist anyway. He didn't often whine to get his way. At least not yet. That was a phase she was hoping he'd skip right over. "You can stay, but if your dad gets upset, we're in trouble."

"Okay." Jack tugged the heavy covers over his little shoulders and nuzzled his head inside Emily's elbow.

"Goodnight," Emily sighed, playing with Jack's overgrown hair. He needed a trim, badly.

"Goodnight. I love you."

"I love you, too." If Emily had a sliver of energy left in her, her eyes would have watered right up. For now, the warmth that spread through her body put her back to sleep.

**A/N: Reviews of any type/length are appreciated! :)**


	49. A Brighter Outlook

Emily awoke to her alarm the next to an empty bed. Jack's little imprint was still next to her, and it was warm, so she surmised that Hotch must have come in to get him recently. She lay there for a moment to assess whether she was well-rested. Deciding that she was even better than well-rested, she stepped swiftly out of bed and peeked into Jack and Henry's room to find the former asleep in his own bed again. She took a quick shower, got ready, and met Hotch downstairs.

"Morning," Hotch said, sneaking a peek at the front page of the newspaper before they had to get the kids up and ready.

"Morning," she said with surprising cheer. She didn't notice the resultant raised eyebrows from Hotch, as she was reaching into the cupboard for her favorite coffee mug.

"Sleep well?"

"Yeah, actually," she said as she poured.

"Even though Jack came in and bugged you?"

Emily smiled softly at Hotch as she stirred some creamer into her coffee. "He was fine. He had a bad dream, didn't want to wake you up because you'd make him go back to his own bed, and he thought there was a monster in his room. I would've gotten out of bed and done a monster check, but I was so tired so I let it slide. Sorry. I know you want him to sleep in his own room."

"It's fine," Hotch said. "I'll talk to him again, though. Make sure it doesn't become a habit."

"Good plan. How'd Charlotte sleep?"

"Well enough, and she just ate a ton, so I think she's good to go to daycare. You good to go to work?"

"Definitely. And I'm going to call my mother tonight, maybe get together with her and talk." Emily waited for a reaction from Hotch, which didn't take long.

"Really?"

"Why are you so surprised?"

"Because you hid this from her for two months and now you're suddenly ready to talk to her after your fight last night."

"Well, I can't leave something like this hanging up in the air. Plus, I wasn't fair to her last night. She didn't deserve that," Emily said with a shrug.

"Well, to be fair, she wasn't very nice herself."

"Well, she had a reason to be angry. I really didn't."

Hotch furrowed his brow. "You must have slept _really_ well."

Emily scowled, but a grin eventually sneaked across her lips. "So what about your brother?"

"What brother?" Hotch asked with a ghost of a smirk.

"Oh, please, I know you have a brother. JJ and Garcia told me how hot he is." Hotch rolled his eyes in disgust. "So, have you told him?"

"Not yet."

"Ha," Emily said victoriously. "I win. I told my family first—"

"Your family _found out_ first," Hotch corrected, pointing a playful finger at Emily. "You certainly are in a better mood—"

"Don't change the subject," Emily said in a more serious tone. "Really, we need everyone to know. We're a family now. Maybe the weirdest one on the block, but we are."

"So you're more optimistic about getting to keep the kids," Hotch said.

Emily pursed her lips. "More optimistic, yes. Entirely optimistic, no. But the sleep did help."

"As did a relentless pep talk from Garcia?"

Emily chuckled. "That too. And relentless is the perfect word." She smiled uncomfortably as she quickly rehashed everything she and Garcia had talked about the night before. "And while we're on this general topic of the shit that hit the fan last night, what the social worker saw…it's my fault, I should have walked away. But I was tired, I was terrified, I was vulnerable, and I wasn't thinking." She considered pausing to let Hotch get a word in, but decided against it. She needed to be firm. "This is about the kids. And I know I've used this reasoning over and over, but it's true. Sometimes I forget it, and sometimes you forget it, and that's okay. We're human and we make mistakes. But we just need to remind ourselves that we can't risk hurting them. We just can't. They need both of us."

Hotch had risen that morning wondering how long they would be able to go without talking about their moment of weakness the night before. To be truthful, he hadn't been optimistic about Emily's reaction, but to hear her reject the idea of them, yet again, didn't hurt any less. But judging from the grave look on her face, and the shine in her eyes, what she was saying to him wasn't easy. "I'm sorry," he said. "I think I took advantage of the situation a little. You tried to walk away and I didn't let you. And you weren't in any state to make any decisions like that. I'm sorry."

"No, don't be. I'm not upset with you. Let's just…try harder. Practice makes perfect, right?" she said, ending with a sigh.

Hotch nodded distantly. "Want to get the baby ready or the boys?"

"I'll get the baby," Emily said, setting her half-drunk coffee on the counter. "Oh, and can you take some stuff out of the freezer so we can eat real food tonight?"

—

"Pick up, pick up, pick up," Emily muttered desperately, calling Hotch on her lunch break.

"Hey, what's going on?" Hotch answered in the hurried voice of a multi-tasker.

"I just got a call from social services. We have a court date."

"We do?" Hotch suddenly sounded like Emily had his complete attention.

"Tomorrow at noon. Thank God, because I can go on my lunch break and if they rule in our favor then it shouldn't take long. Not that the kids aren't more important than my job, but I swear, if I miss any more work in the near future, my ass is grass, and I'd like to be able to feed and clothe them, which I don't think we can do on a single income."

"Well, that's a reason to be optimistic, then. Do the kids need to be there with us?"

"No," Emily said shakily. "I can't believe it's tomorrow. Is this really happening?"

Emily's nerves were contagious, and Hotch couldn't find it in himself to tell her to calm down. His voice shook. "Looks like it. Let's regroup tonight. And maybe you should hold off on talking to your mother until after the hearing. Unless you think you'll have her unwavering support. Otherwise it's just going to be additional stress you don't need."

"Oh, I'm one step ahead of you," Emily said. "She can definitely wait."

"Okay, well, I'll see you tonight. I might be home a little late. Go ahead and start dinner without me if the kids are hungry."

"Okay. See you at home." Emily's mind was a confused mix of excited, horrified, contemplative, and just plain restless, which made it hard to focus on her work for the rest of the day. Quitting time couldn't come soon enough. She didn't think she'd ever been happier to pick the kids up than she was that evening.

Emily couldn't help herself—once she got the kids home and settled in, seasoned some chicken and put it in the oven, she sent a text message with the news to Garcia, Reid, Rossi, and Morgan, all of whom responded quickly with words of support and encouragement. Feeling her nerves abate a bit, Emily focused on trying to find something to go with the chicken. She almost did a celebratory dance when she found two boxes of rice hidden behind a giant jar of peanut butter. Henry and Jack were playing in the back yard and the baby was sleeping when Hotch arrived just in time for dinner.

Jack, who must have heard Hotch pull into the driveway, came tearing across the house to the front door. Henry tried to keep up with him, leaving the back door wide open. Emily went to shut it and heard Jack screaming, "Daddy! Daddy!" Such a reaction from Jack when his father got home wasn't uncommon. What followed, though, was entirely new. Henry echoed Jack perfectly. Emily's eyes widened in surprise, which she tried to hide when Hotch struggled into the kitchen, Henry on his hip and Jack tugging at his suit jacket.

"Hey," Hotch said, somewhat awkwardly, clearly unsure whether Emily had heard Henry.

"Hey. Just in time for dinner."

"Great. I'm starving. Boys, go wash up. Jack, you need to help Henry out, okay? Don't leave him hanging like you did last time. He can't reach the soap."

"Okay," Jack huffed, taking Henry by the hand once Hotch set him down.

Hotch, successful at his attempt to give him and Emily one minute alone, eyed her inquiringly. "Did you hear him?"

"Yeah," Emily said breathily. "That's…that's great. He's adjusting. Really well." She kicked herself for it, but she couldn't help but be disappointed. For as much grief as she gave Hotch and Garcia every time they insisted she was a mom, having one or both of the boys call her "mommy" would have melted her heart and would have eased her nerves about the next day even more. And it would have made her believe Hotch and Garcia for once.

"He was just echoing. He's like a parrot right now. You know that," Hotch said, laying a hand on Emily's shoulder.

"He's smart enough to know what a dad is," Emily said. "He knows you're his dad, so he's going to call you 'daddy.'" She turned her attention back toward dishing out dinner.

"The only reason he hasn't called you 'mommy' is because Jack hasn't. He does what Jack does."

"I know. So do you think you can pick me up from work tomorrow and we can drive over together? I'm right on your way."

"Sure," Hotch said, giving up on gaining any headway with Emily for the time being. They enjoyed a much more peaceful evening than the previous one. Even with the newly introduced underlying tension courtesy of Henry's penchant for repeating things, Hotch and Emily both found it hard not to enjoy a night so uneventful. Charlotte wasn't nearly as fussy, ate well, took her medicine without a fight, and Jack and Henry got through the night without any tiffs.

Emily came downstairs, Charlotte against her shoulder, after saying her goodnights to the boys, which was Hotch's cue to do the same.

"I need you to stay in your own bed tonight, buddy," Hotch said to Jack as he tucked him in. "No more sleeping with me or Emily. You're a big boy now, right?"

"Yeah…"

"Well, big boys sleep in their own beds. All right? I love you."

"Love you too."

"Goodnight." Hotch said with a kiss on Jack's forehead.

"Goodnight, Daddy," Jack said, somewhat disappointed.

"Night, Daddy!" Henry shouted from his bed. Hotch chuckled and said his goodnight to Henry and tucked him in before heading out.

"I thought you were _my_ daddy," Jack said, making Hotch stop in his tracks in the doorway. He turned to see Jack pouting, his face half-illuminated by the light in the hall.

"I am," Hotch said, squatting down next to Jack's bed again. "A father can have more than one son."

"You can?"

"Of course. I'm a daddy to all three of you."

"And Emily is our mommy?"

"You bet," Hotch said, his heart warming. He didn't bother reminding Jack that his had all been clarified already. He couldn't expect a five-year-old to understand completely. If he needed reminding, that was fine.

"Can I call her mommy?"

"Of course you can. You know what? I think she would really like that."

"Can I do it now?" Jack asked eagerly, sitting up.

Hotch smiled and nudged Jack back down against his pillows. "Tomorrow morning, okay?" As much as Hotch thought Emily could use a pick-me-up right now, he didn't want it to seem like he had sent Jack on that mission.

"Okay…"

"Goodnight. Again," Hotch said, amused. Nothing like cute kids to cut the sexual tension down to nothing. Emily's repeated insistence upon a platonic relationship that morning didn't bother him now, at least for the time being. For the first time in a few days, he was perfectly happy. He left their door ajar and went back downstairs, where Emily was already surfing through the DVR. He couldn't hide his anticipatory smile.

"What's with the goofy grin?" she asked, the baby laying across her lap and hanging on to her pinky finger.

"Nothing. The boys were just being goofy. Hey, I think we have ice cream. Want some?"

Emily's lips turned up despite her sulkiness. "Okay, let's establish a ground rule concerning ice cream. I'm surprised I haven't had to do this yet. You _never_ have to ask if I want ice cream."

**A/N: Reviews are much appreciated. Please and thank you :)**


	50. A Court Date and a Lunch Date

"_You_ made coffee yesterday, did you not?" Emily asked Hotch the next morning.

"I did, and I didn't notice I'd used the last of it. I'm sorry," Hotch said with a shrug. "Learn to go without for just one morning, I guess."

"That does not happen," Emily said, shaking her head violently. "I am not friends with any minute before noon without coffee. You do realize how important today is, right?" she asked in despair.

Hotch laughed.

"This isn't funny," Emily cried, but a moment later, Hotch's oddly high-pitched laughter got to her. "Okay, I guess it is kind of funny. I'm sitting here bitching about coffee when the store is five minutes away and I could just go buy some."

"Or you can stop for some on the way to work, and I'll stop at the store on my way home tonight. We need groceries anyway. Unless you don't want the kids two nights in a row, in which case we can swap cars, I can be chauffeur, and you can do the shopping."

Emily scowled at Hotch. "You talk about the kids like they're a chore."

Hotch grinned. "They're not?"

"You're such an ass," Emily muttered under her breath, her lips turned up into a thin smile again. "I'll take the kids. Speaking of which, it's about that time…"

Hotch nodded and they made their way upstairs. Hotch went toward the nursery so Emily took the boys' room. "All right, guys, up ya get…" she said quietly, hitting the light. "Oh, well look at you," she said, chuckling at Jack, who was already wide awake, but still lying under his covers with his fingers holding the covers right under his chin. "Good morning." She crouched down next to him and put his mussed hair back into place.

"Morning, Mommy!" He sounded like he had been bursting to say it.

Emily's mouth dropped open but soon formed a smile. "Mommy, huh?" She was sure the heat that filled her cheeks was obvious.

Jack grinned and threw his covers out of the way. "I wanna wear my Batman shirt," he said decisively, opening his bottom dresser drawer.

"All right, Batman it is." Henry wasn't awake yet, so Emily roused him. "Wanna try and go potty?" she asked him. He rubbed his eyes clumsily and nodded. "Sooner or later you'll get to wear big boy underwear to bed, just like Jack," she said, holding Henry against her chest for the customary two minutes it took him to wake up enough to do anything. He hugged her neck and watched Jack dress himself.

"Mommy, I want pancakes for breakfast," Jack announced.

"Sorry, sweetie, I don't think we have time for pancakes this morning," Emily said, knowing they didn't have the ingredients for them either. How they'd let the cabinets go so bone-dry she wasn't sure, and hearing Jack's "mommy" echoing in her head made it hard to concentrate on figuring out what they _could_ feed the boys for breakfast. Before she even thought of letting herself cry, she grew suspicious that Hotch had planted the idea in Jack's head. She'd have to ask him later.

—

Emily's stomach lurched while she waited in front of her building for Hotch to show up. When he did, she didn't really feel any better.

"Hey," Hotch said with a smile. "How's your day been?"

"I've felt nauseous all day. You?"

"Haven't been able to concentrate," Hotch admitted.

Emily sighed. "It's so hard to believe that this is it. I mean, after all we've put into making this work, it could be taken right away from us."

Hoping it would only be taken as friendly, Hotch glanced into Emily's lap and took one of her hands. Thankfully for him, she squeezed back. "What happened to the optimism?" he asked.

"Sorry, I know. I can't help but worry, though. At least if things don't work out, I won't be as disappointed. Low expectations."

"You can be the most depressing person sometimes," Hotch said. "And that's saying something, because usually I'm the most depressing person I know."

"I'm sorry, I really am," Emily moaned. "I'll stop being a drama queen in about half an hour, hopefully."

"It's okay. Let's just talk about something else for a while."

"Good idea. Jack called me 'mommy' this morning when I went to get him out of bed." Emily was glad Jack hadn't repeated it once they were out of his bedroom, as she wanted a chance to make sure Hotch hadn't put Jack up to it before she got too excited.

"Did he?" Hotch asked with a smile, taking a second to switch his eyes from the road to Emily. "You don't look happy."

"I am happy," Emily said quickly. "I mean, it's really sweet. But did you tell him to? Because you didn't have to."

"I knew you'd think I'd put him up to it. But no, I didn't. He asked me last night if he could, and I said yes, and added on that you'd probably like it. It was his idea, though. No planting involved, I promise." Hotch waited patiently for a response, but when he was realizing he wasn't going to get one, he sneaked another glance Emily's way. "Please tell me those are happy tears."

Emily laughed and stole her hand away to catch her tears before they tracked down her face. "They are." She made a decision not to share with Hotch the dread she felt over the possibility of losing Jack, too. She hadn't given much thought as to what would happen between her, Hotch, and Jack, if Henry and Charlotte were taken away. She knew she would be devastated at the loss, and so would Hotch, but what would be the non-emotional aftermath? Would she continue to live with Hotch and Jack, even if only for Jack's sake? Would she move out, be alone again after just having had formed a family?

They spent the rest of the ride to the courthouse, which wasn't long, in silence. They met Will and JJ's attorney on the front steps of the courthouse.

"You look worried," he said immediately to Emily. Apparently she hadn't done a good job of ridding herself of her tears. He smiled. "Don't be," he said, holding the door open for them both. His voice echoed against the cold granite inside. "How are the kids?"

"They're great," Hotch reported.

"Healthy, happy?"

"Very."

The attorney eyed Emily again and laid a hand on her shoulder. "Then why are you so worried? Is your case worker giving you grief?" he asked her.

"She's…feisty," Hotch answered for her.

"Well, just keep in mind that some case workers are actually dedicated to the children. So if she's giving you grief, I'd take it more as advice. I doubt she'd try to take the kids away from you. If she knows she won't recommend removing the kids from your care, then she might just be trying to guide you to act in the kids' best interests. And it would take a lot of big mistakes on your part to get a judge to countermand the LaMontagne's wishes. You both have jobs, you're supporting the kids, and they're doing well. In a few minutes this will all be over and you can stop stressing."

"What did I tell you?" Hotch murmured to Emily, putting an arm around her shoulder as they followed the attorney through security and to their assigned courtroom.

"Shut up," she shot back, but in good humor.

"Still nervous?" he asked.

"I will be until a judge tells me what he just did."

—

Twenty minutes later, Emily was still marveling at how the fate of her family could be decided so quickly, so cavalierly. But she certainly wasn't about to complain. The attorney wished them well and told them he'd be happy to help them petition for an upgrade from guardianship to adoption to seal the deal completely. Henry and Charlotte weren't going anywhere.

Hotch smiled and strode side-by-side with Emily outside the courthouse and to their car. Suddenly the shining sun and budding trees all made sense. Before they split to get into their separate sides of the car, Emily grabbed Hotch's arm. She hadn't said a word since the judge had let down his gavel. Everything was still sinking in, but at least it was in a good way.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she squeezed the life out of him. He squeezed right back, pressing his chin into her hair.

"Sorry for what?" he asked.

"For being such a worry wart, causing so much drama…"

"Worrying is part of the job description. No one told you that?" Hotch said lightly.

"You don't seem to worry much."

"I worry all the time."

"About what?" she asked, still content in their secure embrace.

"About whether I'll forget to buy more coffee when we run out again."

Emily laughed and punched him in the back, making Hotch join along in her laughter for a short moment. "Want to grab a quick lunch while we're out?" Emily asked. "My treat."

"Well, if it's your treat…" A smirk tickled Hotch's lips as he broke away. "Feel better now?"

"Worlds."

"Good, then let's go eat. I'm starving."

—

Now that her world was at peace, now that her family was without a doubt her family, Emily could take the time to appreciate all the good things that crossed her path that day. The weather was perfect—they would have to take the kids out and do something after dinner; she still had half an hour to spend with Hotch; and Jack had called her "mommy." Even though other issues loomed over her head—whether Hotch would ask her to be named in his will as Jack's guardian in the event that her world got turned upside down again; her mother and the mending that needed to happen in their relationship; the fact that Charlotte still wasn't feeling a hundred percent—nothing could bring her down right now.

"I don't think we've been out anywhere without the kids since we got them, have we?" Hotch pondered as they took a seat at a café with some pre-wrapped sandwiches and iced tea.

"Not just us, no, except for packing up stuff at Will and JJ's, which didn't really count as going out," Emily said. "Wow. This is really what it's like, huh? A kid-free minute outside of work and you realize you haven't had one."

"You're learning fast," Hotch said.

"Oh, wait, no," Emily said with a mouthful of turkey. "Showers. Showers are my me time. Sometimes I just stand there. I'm not even joking. I'll just stand under the water until my face burns." This elicited a deep belly laugh from Hotch. "Oh, and in the car, when they're not with me. Also spectacular. Sometimes I don't turn the kids' music off, though. But not because I like it. Just because I'm lazy."

"Right," Hotch said skeptically.

"Please. It was on when you picked me up from work. I saw you try to turn it off before I saw. You're just as guilty as I am."

Hotch just grinned and took another bite of his sandwich. "We should do this more often."

"What, lunch?"

"Yeah."

"I usually don't even take a lunch break. I eat a granola bar at my desk and work through my break so I can leave on time."

"How about just once a week? Every Wednesday. The kids won't care if they're at daycare half an hour later. It can be our little secret."

"All right. We'll see how long we can keep it up. So, while we have the time to talk, what else do we have to talk about?"

"Jack calling you mommy?" Hotch suggested.

Emily blushed profusely. "What's there to talk about?"

"Are you glad he said it?"

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just wanted to make sure it didn't make you uncomfortable."

Emily's eyebrows slanted downward. "Not at all. Does it make _you_ uncomfortable?"

"Not in the slightest," Hotch said with utter sincerity. "I know you'd do anything for him and I can't even begin to tell you how much that means to me. I couldn't be happier that he finally sees you as a mom."

Emily smiled awkwardly and wondered if this was a good time to bring up the issue of Hotch's will, but she decided the moment was too sweet to go ruining it. She'd tuck this one safely away in her heart before touching on any more sensitive subjects.

Hotch checked his watch. "We should probably finish up," he said.

A hiss of laughter escaped Emily's lips.

"What?" Hotch asked.

"Sorry, mind in the gutter."

"You enjoy ruining moments, don't you?" Hotch quipped.

"Don't even start on me. 'Somebody's poopy. Can't you smell that?'"

"Hmm, forgot about that one," Hotch said with a guilty smirk.

**A/N: And everyone breathes a sigh of relief, I hope. Thanks as always for reading, and please leave a review!**


	51. Insecurities

"I wanna sleep in your room," Jack whined that evening when Emily came up to say goodnight. Hotch had said his goodnights already, and was downstairs with Charlotte now. Henry was already out cold.

"Nope, sorry," Emily said, patting Jack on the chest. "You need to sleep in your bed."

"But Mommy…"

"You know the rules," Emily insisted, even though she melted a little at his name for her.

Jack's whine drew out into a cry.

Emily sighed and rolled her eyes behind her eyelids. _Where is this coming from?_ she wondered. She didn't want to have to ask for Hotch's assistance, but at the same time, despite knowing Hotch gave her authority over Jack tantamount to his own, she still didn't feel comfortable disciplining him.

"You're sleeping in your own bed like a big boy. We've talked about this."

"But you let me before."

"I shouldn't have broken the rules," Emily said. "Time to go to sleep." Jack turned away from her crossly. She drew a deep breath. "I love you."

"No you don't."

Emily knew better than to take Jack seriously, even if she had no idea why he was acting up all of a sudden, but she had a hard time keeping the angry words of a five-year-old from offending her. "Yes, I do. Goodnight," she said, deciding to keep it short. She shut the boys' door most of the way and told herself not to take it personally while she descended the stairs.

She felt as if Jack could call her "mommy" until the cows came home and she would still never measure up to what he'd lost. And the same went for Henry and Charlotte. She knew she should be feeling elated after finding out her family would stay just as it was, but suddenly the fact that a court of law had to decide whether she could keep the children, as if they were property, was bursting her bubble, to say the least.

"Did you buy beer at the store?" she asked Hotch hopefully, skipping the living room for now and heading into the kitchen.

"It's behind the juice boxes," Hotch called from where he lay on the couch.

"Classy," Emily remarked, opening two bottles without asking Hotch if he wanted one. His attitude toward a cold one was similar to her attitude toward ice cream.

"I thought we had a _good_ day?" Hotch asked when Emily set the bottles on the coffee table.

"We did, I just—oh my God," Emily whispered. "Is she sleeping?" She nodded toward the baby, who lay on her stomach on top of Hotch's middle.

"Not sure," Hotch said quietly. "She didn't react when I yelled to you just a minute ago, so probably."

Emily crouched down next to the couch to get a better look at Charlotte. Her cheek was pushed against Hotch's gray t-shirt and her eyes were closed. "Yup, she's out," Emily reported, running a delicate hand across the back of the baby's head and smoothing her thin, light hair. She caught Hotch's eye only for a second and flashed him a smile she couldn't hold back. "This has got to be the cutest thing I've seen in…I don't even know how long," she said, laughing. "What?" she asked when she glanced back at Hotch, whose eyes were rolled back into his head. "You can't tell me this isn't cute."

"That's what every man dreams of, you know. Being 'cute.'"

"Well, a man with three little kids including a baby who falls asleep on his stomach is going to have to get used to it. Want me to put her to bed?"

"Nope, we're good," Hotch said casually. "Hand me my beer?"

"That doesn't look quite right," Emily said, handing over Hotch's beer and watching him take a sip with the baby so close.

"We're a weird family, remember?" he said with a smirk.

"As long as the baby's not the one drinking…" Emily said, trailing off as she grabbed a blanket off the back of the couch and wrapped herself up into a ball on the recliner. "Hey, do we have a camera?"

Hotch was flipping through the DVR, trying to find where they'd left off the night before. "I don't know, do we?" he asked, staring at the television screen.

"So helpful," Emily said with a grin.

"It's in a basket on top of the fridge."

"How did I not know this already?"

Hotch shrugged. "You don't have your own camera?"

"Only on my phone."

"Well, go grab mine. Ours. What's yours is mine, what's mine is yours, you know," he mumbled playfully.

"Eh," Emily grunted. "Just promise to do this baby-on-the-stomach thing again sometime soon when I'm not already sitting down."

"Feeling lazy, are we?" he said, craning his neck to get a good look at Emily.

"Shut up and play something," Emily said dryly.

"You okay?" Hotch ventured.

"I was just joking."

"I know, I know. I just thought you'd be a little…happier. You seem down about something."

"I'm fine," Emily said, determined to deal with Jack's outburst on her own. If she was going to strive to prove herself as a parent, she didn't feel that running to Hotch for every little hiccup was the best plan.

"Come on. You've been on cloud nine since I got home from the store, and then you come downstairs all sulky."

"I'm not sulky." Emily pointed to the television screen, but Hotch wouldn't back down.

"Are you going to argue with me about _whether_ you're sulky, or tell me _why_ you're sulky?" he pressed, taking a sip of his beer, putting it on the floor, and laying his hands on Charlotte's rhythmically rising and falling back.

"I can handle it on my own," Emily said.

"Is it about your mother?"

"No. Seriously, I can handle it on my own, okay?" Emily said testily.

"But you don't need to."

"But I can."

"Did Jack say something while you were up there?" Hotch persisted. Emily sighed but didn't deny it. "What did he say?"

"Aaron—"

"I can help."

"_Why_ are you being so nosy?"

"Because he's my son." Upon the completion of his sentence, Hotch realized it was quite a bad one.

"Thanks, that helps tremendously," Emily said coldly. "All right. _Your son_ is pissed because I won't let him sleep in my room. That's all."

"Emily, I'm sorry. I didn't mean anything by what I said. That was…careless."

"But true," Emily said, this time with a more even temper. "It's reflex. He _is _your son."

"And yours."

Emily expertly avoided eye contact with Hotch, not knowing what to add to the argument yet.

"I touched a nerve. I'm sorry. I don't know what else to say." Hotch swung his legs off the couch and slowly sat up, keeping the baby against him.

"It's not your fault," Emily said. She decided not to discuss her insecurities about her relationship with Jack that stemmed from her not being named in Hotch's will. She knew it would have to come up sooner or later, so she was only prolonging the inevitable, but she was still too terrified of that issue to face it. "I'm just overly sensitive about the kids. It's…different for men and women. Not being someone's biological parent. I love the kids, I do, but it's hard knowing that I didn't carry them, that I didn't even plan to be a mother to them. It's a feeling I can't explain. It doesn't make me love them less, it just makes me less confident in my abilities as a parent, or even my right to be strict with them. I'm not saying it's logical to feel this way, but I feel this way nonetheless."

"I can understand that," Hotch said soothingly. "Mothers carry the baby around for nine months—"

"Actually, it's closer to ten—"

Hotch cocked a warning eyebrow at Emily. "And fathers don't. You're right. The experience is much more involved for mothers. But you shouldn't let that—"

"Okay, this is why I didn't want to talk about it," Emily said impatiently. "I appreciate the sympathy, and I know it's sincere, but it's just going to take time to get rid of the feeling that I'm not a real mom. Jack calling me 'mommy' does help, and I'm sure once Henry starts up, that'll help too, but this isn't something you can just talk out of me. It's just going to take time." Emily gave Hotch a soft look that let him know she wasn't angry with him, even if she wasn't upbeat like she had been the rest of the evening.

"I wish there were something I could do to help," Hotch said. "Besides backing off and letting you handle things on your own when you want to," he added.

"That will help. It really will. Trust me, if I need your help, I'll ask for it. I promise."

"I know. And I really am sorry for being pushy."

"It's perfectly okay," Emily insisted. "I shouldn't have let it get to me. Sorry for snapping."

Hotch smirked.

"What?"

He shrugged. "We just had an argument and resolved it in two minutes."

Emily laughed under her breath. "Do we have anything else we want to argue about while we're on a roll?"

"How about you mother?" Hotch tried.

"How about your brother?" Emily shot right back.

"Touché."

**A/N: Please continue leaving reviews! :)  
**


	52. What to Say

**April 2011 (Present Day) **

"Since you asked first…I'm going to call my mother tomorrow night, see if I can stop by. Would you be all right on your own with the kids?" Emily asked.

"Of course."

"Good. I just have to think of what I'm going to say to her."

"Now _this_ I definitely won't butt in on," Hotch quipped. "Speaking of talking to people, we should let the team know it's official. But you can have the Ambassador all to yourself."

"Thanks a lot, but I'm still going to butt in about Sean."

"You know his name?" Hotch asked. He lay back down with the baby now that Emily was calmer.

"I _live_ with you. You see me without my makeup on. Hell, you've seen me without anything on. I'm allowed to know your brother's name."

"Fair enough," Hotch said, hoping to move on before Emily could delve into the towel incident any further. "I haven't decided what I'm going to say to him yet, either."

"Well, at least you're planning on saying something. You get points for that." Emily picked at her fingers shamefully. "I was really stupid to try and hide it. There was never going to be a perfect time. But the best time probably would have been right away."

"You had your reasons. Hopefully she'll understand."

"Do you think Sean will be upset that you didn't tell him sooner?"

"Sean? He couldn't even make it to Haley's funeral. I doubt he'll really care about this if he didn't care about his sister-in-law being murdered. Not to say he's a bad person, but he's got different priorities. Jack doesn't really know him. I highly doubt he'll take more interest in Henry and Charlotte than he does in Jack."

Emily's mouth drooped. "That's sad. I'm sorry."

Hotch shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows? I don't remember the last time I talked to him, but it could be a way for us to connect again. Now that Jack's getting older, he'll start to wonder why everyone else has huge extended families and his only uncle never sees him."

"Then maybe you should take advantage of this."

"This might sound crazy," Hotch started, "but…maybe we should get as many of our family members as possible together and let them get used to the idea of…all of this…all at one time, in one place. Have them all over for dinner or something."

Emily's eyes narrowed. "You mean my parents, Sean, and Jessica, plus us and the kids, all at one table?"

"All right, never mind," Hotch said, shaking his head. "It was crazy."

Emily's eyes pinched shut even further. "Wait," she said. "You might be onto something. Maybe if they're all in one room together, they'll act like a buffer. I know my mother and she'll only lose her temper in front of family, not friends, and definitely not strangers."

"And if there are enough other people here, I can ignore Jessica's passive aggressiveness," Hotch said brightly, stroking Charlotte's back.

Emily chuckled. "Then maybe I can avoid a solo meeting with my mother. What about Sean? Where is he now, anyway?"

"Not far, actually. He was in New York working at a restaurant for a few years but he recently moved back home when that didn't work out. We're from Sweet Briar."

"How long has he been back?" Emily asked, wondering how this hadn't come up in conversation before.

"A couple years."

"So he only lives a few hours away now, and he still hasn't come by to see Jack?"

Hotch shrugged. "I told you," he mumbled, "we aren't very close. Never have been, really. I'm a lot older than he is. That was always weird growing up."

"Still…I think it's kind of crappy that—you know what, you don't judge _my_ family, so I shouldn't be judging yours. I'm sorry." Emily held her hand up and shook her head.

Hotch cocked an eyebrow. "You're just stating facts. It _is_ crappy that Jack's only uncle can't drive three hours to say hello."

"Still. Just because I'm thinking it doesn't mean I have to say it," Emily said.

"Well, I don't mind," Hotch insisted. "I'll give him a call and see when he's free, that way we can work around him to make sure he shows up. Sound good?"

"Sounds fine," Emily said, even though every second she thought about it, the worse the scenarios were that ran through her overactive imagination. She took her beer, sat back, and wrapped her blanket more tightly around her. She saw Hotch reach for the remote from the corner of her eye. Their show started up, but it was an episode she remembered seeing not too long ago. Her mind eventually drifted to Jack, and not to what he'd said to her that night—she knew she couldn't take a young child that seriously—but to how his only legal family members were his father, an estranged uncle, and an extremely possessive aunt. He had no real mother now. No real siblings. No grandparents. And he was only five.

Her heart pounded inside of her chest, harder and harder, threatening to burst if she didn't say something. "Can you pause it for a second?" she asked vaguely.

"Sure." Hotch obliged and let his lead loll to the side so he could converse with Emily face to face.

"While we're on the topic of Jack…do you remember what the social worker asked the other night, about what would happen to him if something were to happen to you? Where he would go?"

Hotch took a deep breath before answering. He'd hoped Emily would shelve this topic for a little longer. "I remember."

"Okay, well," Emily said tentatively, twirling her beer bottle in her hands and looking down its neck. "We should talk about that."

Hotch sat up again. He gave Emily a blank stare before saying, "Let me put the baby up to bed. I'll be right back."

**September 2009**

Hotch left Jack's bedroom door ajar, thankful that he seemed to be sleeping peacefully. He wished he could say the same for himself. But before another thought could cross his mind, a knock sounded at the apartment door. Expecting no one else, really, he was still surprised to see Emily through the peephole.

"Hey," he said softly, letting her in. Even though he wasn't leaving or turning in for the night, he still did his ritual locking and arming of the security system.

"Hi," she replied, holding up a casserole dish. "Brought food. Real. Homemade. I don't know if it's any good, because I never cook, but…" She offered Hotch a sheepish grin.

"Thank you." He took the cold dish and put it on the counter. "I am actually hungry. Is this already cooked?"

"Yeah, you can just throw it in the oven for a while and warm it back up." While she waited for Hotch to do just that, she took off her jacket and hung it up, stepping out of her shoes while she was by the door. It still always felt a bit strange to be near Hotch without shoes on, no matter how close they were, but he preferred that shoes be taken off in the apartment, as he hardly had time to keep the clutter to a minimum, let alone keep the floors clean.

"How did the case go?" he asked.

"That's not what I'm here to talk about," Emily said. "Are you coming back?" She sounded as if she'd been trying to hold off on asking that question, but suppressing it just took too much energy.

Hotch nodded. "I guess there was never really a doubt in my mind. This job is…" He shrugged.

"Who you are," Emily finished for him.

Hotch nodded and headed to the couch. "Can we talk about the case now? No one will fill me in."

"No. Someone can debrief you when you come back to the office. You need to take as much time as you can just…being with Jack, you know?"

"He's in bed now," Hotch countered, finding himself wishing for a moment that Emily would sit next to him. As much of a hugger as he wasn't, her embrace before she'd left after Haley's funeral had comforted something inside of him, fed a hunger he hadn't known he had, one for physical affection, platonic _or_ romantic. He needed that again, but she sat in the chair, though still not far from him.

"Still. You've been through so much. The last thing you should be thinking about right now is work. How much time are you taking?"

"Just until Monday," Hotch said.

Emily looked appalled. "It's Thursday. Take more time."

"I've already had a couple of days."

"What about Jack? He needs you."

"He'll be going back to school on Monday. And he's actually been doing pretty well, all things considered. Much better than I've been doing."

"Well, thankfully, kids don't comprehend this kind of stuff as much as we do."

Hotch nodded and let his face slide into his wide hands. Once Jack was in bed, Hotch usually used the quiet time to reflect, to cry unabashedly if he needed to, while no one was there to see or hear him. He could let the guilt flow freely down his cheeks. Emily was intruding, taking away from this time, but he didn't mind a bit. He figured he could make an exception for her, break down in front of someone if he needed to.

"Daddy?" Jack ambled into the living room, holding his security blanket and dressed in green footie pajamas.

"Hey, buddy, what's the matter? I thought you were sleeping," Hotch answered with an already stuffy nose. He held his arms out, but Jack spotted Emily and went quietly to her instead, climbing into her lap without permission. She smiled gently and helped him up. "I think I need a minute. Would you mind?" he asked Emily, gesturing toward Jack. Hotch's lip was now tucked in, twitching as if he were holding everything in, not wanting Jack to see him cry.

"Of course not. Take all the time you need." Emily tried not to sound too concerned, not wanting to cue an emotional response from Jack.

"Thank you. I won't be long. Lock up behind me." Hotch took his keys with him and left the apartment.

"Where's Daddy going?" Jack asked, clutching Emily's shoulders while she got up, locked the door, and armed the system again.

"Just for a walk. He needs some fresh air," Emily explained. "Why are you up? You're supposed to be sleeping." She sat down with him again and didn't have to pull him close. He made himself comfortable against her and sucked his thumb, not giving her an answer. "Are you thirsty?" Jack shook his head, "Hungry?" He shook it again. "Just need someone to snuggle with?" Bingo. Jack nodded and nuzzled in even closer, willing Emily to tighten her arms around him. "Well, you can snuggle with me and go back to sleep."

Not even ten minutes later, Hotch let himself back inside as quietly as he could, hoping Jack would be asleep again. When he looked toward Emily with red eyes, that exact question on his mind, she nodded. "I can put him back in bed," he said, walking up to Emily and holding his arms out.

"I'll put him down when I leave. He's comfy. Is there anything I can do for you? Anything at all?"

Hotch sighed and reclaimed his seat. "This is perfect. I'm glad you came by. And thank you for…" he lifted his hand toward Jack. "He's crazy about you."

Emily grinned. "You've told me a hundred times. And I'm equally crazy about him. I love kids, and apart from Jack, the closest I usually come to them is on cases, and that's never a situation where you want to see a child, even alive," she said gravely. "Are you okay? Well, you know what I mean. Do you want me to go, stay…?"

"I'm okay. I just needed a minute. But some intelligent conversation would be great, if you don't mind staying." Figuring that adding "I've missed you" was a little too honest, Hotch left that part out.

"My evening's free, just for you guys," Emily said.

**April 2011 (Present Day) **

Hotch took his time getting Charlotte to bed, walking her around the nursery a few times before deciding he couldn't keep Emily waiting. Five more minutes wasn't going to make this any easier.

**A/N: Please review!  
**


	53. Wills

**August 2008**

Hotch took Jack's backpack from Haley just inside the front door. He'd come to his former home to pick up his son, almost three years old, to spend the weekend with him at his apartment.

"He was running a bit of a fever last night and Monday night, so just keep an eye on that," Haley said.

Hotch nodded and waited silently for Jack to put his shoes on, which he insisted doing on his own.

"Weddy, Daddy!" Jack said with a toothy grin.

"Great, let's get going." Hotch held the door open for Jack, who trotted right through.

"Actually, I need to talk to you about something before you leave," Haley said nervously, as if she'd been deliberating broaching the subject up until this moment.

"What is it?" Hotch asked, following Jack outside. Haley waited until Jack was buckled into his booster seat in the back of Hotch's car, and the door was shut, before she said anything further.

"When Jack talks about 'Emmy,' does he mean Emily? As in the Emily you work with?" Haley asked, leaning against her own car in the driveway and crossing her arms. She asked this question in a timid voice, not an accusing one.

"Yes." Hotch stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and stood still.

"It's been a while, hasn't it?" Haley asked shakily, her giant, round eyes shining in the setting sun.

"What's been a while?" Hotch sincerely had no idea what Haley was getting at. He could profile criminals in his sleep, but he could never quite profile Haley. Maybe that was why they stood in the driveway of the home they once shared, swapping their son for the weekend.

"That you've been seeing her."

The color left Hotch's face as his eyebrows jutted upward. "We're not seeing each other."

"She comes over." Haley bit her upper lip as if holding back tears. "And when Jack is there."

"I—Haley—" Hotch stammered. "Emily and I are friends. She just comes over sometimes and we just…" Hotch shrugged and stared at the concrete. "Usually we just eat dinner and watch TV."

"When did it start?" Haley asked. She ran a thin finger under each eye. Hotch didn't want Haley to cry—didn't want to _watch_ her cry—but he also couldn't bring himself to console her.

"When she helped me move into the apartment."

Haley nodded, staring into a nearby tree where some birds flitted about. "So before we divorced."

Hotch's pity began to dissipate. "Yes, before we divorced. But it's only been friendly," he said, the image and sensation of Emily in his lap on the couch running through his mind. That was soon accompanied by the memory of the day Haley had received two phone calls she wouldn't answer in front of him—the day he became relatively certain that she'd been seeing another man. "Whether it was before we divorced doesn't really matter. Emily and I are friends. That's all."

"Jack seems to like her."

"He does." Hotch was thankful he'd had the sense not to say something like, "He's crazy about her." Haley didn't need to hear that. Not that she needed to feel insecure about that—Jack loved his mother and spoke of her with nothing but fondness—but Haley didn't need to know that there was anyone remotely like another mother figure in her son's life.

"Okay, well…have a nice weekend. Check his temperature tonight before he goes to bed."

**January 2010**

"I'm sorry you had to cancel your plans," Hotch said for the third time, handing Jack's backpack to Jessica, who held the door open, watching Jack toddle inside with a smile on her face.

"It's okay," Jessica said without malice. "You know I love him to death. It's never a burden."

"I know we don't always see eye-to-eye on everything, but…" Hotch met Jessica's eye and stared at her. "Thank you. I know you do it for Jack, not for me, but thank you anyway."

A half-smirk crossed Jessica's cheeks "I do it for you, too."

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily was waiting in the recliner—she apparently hadn't moved a muscle while he'd been upstairs putting the baby to bed. Hotch considered asking her if she was hungry, just to stall, but he knew he just needed to cut to the chase. She waited with bated breath for him to do just that. He sat on the couch his elbows on his legs, hands clasped between his knees.

"I haven't changed who's listed in my will as Jack's guardian should I die. Jessica was listed even while Haley was still alive and it's remained that way ever since. And—" Hotch paused to gauge Emily's reaction, which, judging from the rosiness of her cheeks and the way she wrapped her blanket more tightly around her, wasn't good so far. "And I know that you love Jack. I don't doubt that for a second. But Jessica loves him, too. She would do anything for him—not that you wouldn't, because I know you would, too—but…just because she doesn't agree with the way we've chosen to live our lives doesn't mean she loves Jack any less."

Emily could have remarked that Jessica had _chosen_ not to see Jack more often by refusing to help take care of Henry and Charlotte, that Jessica could have put aside her issues with the adults if she wanted to see more of Jack. She'd only seen Henry and Charlotte once, and only briefly. Emily's mouth remained glued shut, though.

"And it's…what Haley would have wanted. She and her sister were best friends Haley's entire life." He could continue, but he checked first to see whether that was a good idea. Emily's eyes were shut and her knuckles were white from clutching her blanket. "Are you okay?"

Emily shrugged and batted her eyes, staring through the fogginess up to the ceiling. "I don't know. I honestly hoped your answer would be different. I guess that was silly of me. But it isn't up to me."

Seeing Emily's pain was far worse than what Hotch remembered of Haley that night in the driveway when she'd thought he'd been sleeping with Emily. "Emily, I'm sorry. But Jack's known Jessica his whole life and he understands that she's his…" He was going to say "family" but caught himself. "…aunt. And this is all very hypothetical anyway. What are the odds I'm going to die anytime soon?"

Emily scowled. "Don't you think that's what Will and JJ thought when they changed their will? Is that really your reasoning? Go the easy route because you don't think you'll die before he's eighteen, because you don't think it'll ever come down to this?" she asked with surprising control over her volume.

Hotch's hand shook slightly until he ran it back through his thick hair. "That's not what I mean."

"Then what _do_ you mean? I know that he's your son, and Jessica's his blood relative, and I don't deny that that's important. And I will _accept_ whatever decision you make because I trust that you know what's best for Jack. But I don't…" Emily sighed and rolled her shoulders to and fro, not finishing her sentence.

"This doesn't mean that I don't trust you with Jack. You know that, right?" Hotch said cautiously.

"I know. But what about Henry and Charlotte? The three of them are already siblings." She didn't add how Jack was already calling her "mommy," as she didn't want to make this issue about her, but the thought definitely assaulted her. Jack was finally feeling like he had a stable family again, felt like he had a mother again, and Hotch was willing to let that be taken away. But she hoped she could trap Hotch with the siblings remark and not have to resort to telling him how much she would be hurt if she were to lose Jack, and how much Jack would probably be hurt as well. She wanted out of this as cleanly as possible. She didn't want to play dirty, to guilt him into anything using her own emotions.

Hotch sensed himself beginning to flounder. He'd thought about this quite seriously, and the true hang-up for him had been Henry and Charlotte. He knew he shouldn't risk Jack's relationship with whom were already just like siblings to him. But at the same time, he knew that Jessica loved Jack with all her heart, and she'd really done nothing to deserve being asked to step down. Of course Hotch wished she would be more accepting of Henry, Charlotte, and Emily, but that was her prerogative. And at least at first, she'd had a right to be wary about the situation.

But now that _Emily_ had brought up Henry and Charlotte, and with tears glistening in her eyes, Hotch's resolve began to falter. "I'm sure that…you and Jessica would be able to work something out…"

"Yes, because Jessica's just crazy about me," Emily said dryly. "Listen, as long as you think that's what would be best not only for Jack, but for all the kids, then stick with it." _This shouldn't be about Jessica's or my feelings,_ she thought, but knew she shouldn't say, because if she did, it _would_ be about her own feelings. She'd bared her heart and sole to Hotch lately when it came to how she felt about Jack, and he was almost making her wish she'd been more reserved. If she'd been less open about her love for Jack, perhaps Hotch's decision wouldn't have torn her heart into a thousand tiny pieces like it was right now.

"I hope you realize that I'm in a tough spot," Hotch said gently, with nothing to say for himself in regards to whether he'd thought this through with all three children in mind, and not just Jack.

_And I'm not? _Emily thought angrily. "I know. And I apologize if I'm making it tougher for you. It sounds like you already had your mind made up anyway. So I shouldn't persist." Emily shrugged and slid out of her chair, knowing full well that she would persist eventually, that it was in Jack's best interest to be with her, Henry, and Charlotte, if he couldn't be with his dad, and that she would never lose sight of that. But she didn't have it in her to argue with Hotch anymore tonight. Maybe he would sleep on it and realize his mistake and correct it on his own. Maybe her work was already done, just by planting the doubt in his mind. If only she were so lucky.

"I'm sorry, Emily. I can tell that this isn't what you wanted to hear." Hotch stood and watched helplessly as Emily approached the stairs, her eyes averted from him.

"Don't be sorry for how this makes me feel," she said solemnly, her face softening. "This isn't about me."

"Then I wish you wouldn't be so upset." Yet again Hotch found himself in a place where he regretted not thinking before speaking. He knew this place very well by now. He thought briefly about just moving there already, or at least buying a timeshare.

"I can't just turn my feelings on and off anymore, Hotch. Not with the kids," she said just loudly enough for him to hear while she climbed the stairs. "I'm going to bed. Goodnight."

"We don't do this," Hotch said firmly. Emily was halfway up the stairs already, but she paused and turned, waiting for him to clarify. "We don't walk away from arguments. We're good at…resolving things before we part ways."

"Well, this one isn't up to me to resolve."

"I understand that, but you're not being honest about your feelings. You're holding back something and it's obvious."

Emily's attitude turned from melancholy to defensive. "And you're not?"

"What do you mean?" Hotch asked, the creases in his forehead deepening as Emily came back down the stairs.

"Are we going to be completely honest?" Emily checked, now standing only a foot away from Hotch.

"I was trying to before." Hotch crossed his arms as he gave Emily a thorough visual examination. She was still hiding under the blanket, and he could see a couple of tear tracks on her cheeks. She must have dropped a few silent ones when she'd been walking up the stairs.

"Maybe this is just my imagination, but I think you feel like you owe Haley and Jessica. Haley, because your marriage ended, and Jessica, because she's been there for you when you've needed her. And I think that that guilt is clouding your judgment when it comes to this decision. You're making it about you three."

Why did she have to hit the nail right on the head so often with him? Why couldn't he get away with a thing anymore? Their skill of reading each other, which of course failed now and then, was coming back to bite him in the ass. "Then what do you suggest I do?" he asked, purposely avoiding denying what Emily had purported, knowing he wouldn't be able to worm his way out.

Emily shrugged rather helplessly. "This really isn't my decision to make," she said. For a fleeting moment, she thought hopefully of Hotch saying, "Yes, it is. You're his mother now." But with one look at him, seeing the hopeless look in his eyes, she knew he would let her remain a bystander for now, wouldn't _really _insist that she had a say. The guilt was written all over. She knew he'd just asked her what she suggested because she'd profiled him correctly and he wanted to keep the conversation moving along. He wasn't going to take her opinion into account. Not tonight.

She could swear his eyes were shining when he said, "I'm sorry that I've hurt you."

"I told you," Emily said, "this isn't about me. Of course I'm hurt. I love Jack. But I don't want you to base your decision _at all_ on how I feel. That would be rather hypocritical of me, since I'm accusing you of making your decision based how you feel, and how Haley would have felt, and how Jessica feels. I don't think this should be about the adults. The adults aren't the ones you should be worrying about. It's a three-month-old, a two-year-old, and a five-year-old."

"You said this was my decision to make," Hotch said, not in an argumentative tone, like he wanted Emily to stop talking, but in a way that challenged her to think about what she was saying, to realize that when she'd said it was _his_ decision to make, she had resented the fact. He wanted her to at least admit that she _wished_ she had a say. Even if he wouldn't take it into account, he for some reason needed to know that she wanted her voice to be heard.

"It is your decision."

Hotch nodded minutely. "Just checking. If there's anything else you need to tell me…since we're being honest…" He knew he was being manipulative, trying to force Emily to confess her true feelings toward the matter, but he felt it would have been even worse of him to come right out and say that he knew exactly how she felt. It was becoming a battle of wits and power now, a type of battle they hadn't fought (in a serious manner) in a long time. In a sick way, Hotch found it fun, but only for a split second.

"I wish I had a say. That's obviously what you want to hear me say. You want me vulnerable. Why, I don't know. I guess I wasn't already vulnerable enough. But there you go. I wish it was my choice to make, and if it were my choice at all, it's obvious what my decision would be. But it's not my choice. It's yours. And you know that. And for some reason you're finding enjoyment in reminding me of that."

Hotch's heart turned to lead and dropped into his stomach. If he had to guess, he'd say that the last time Emily had been so biting with him had been when she'd cursed at him in the parking lot before she'd left his retirement party. "Emily…"

"I know that we have fun poking at each other…I know it's funny when we can finish each other's sentences. It's cute. And it's comfortable. But this isn't a situation that calls for it. I tried to take the honorable way out of this and you _had_ to take that away from me? I want a say in this, yes. But…" Emily drew in a shaky breath and tucked her lips in.

"But what?" Hotch reached a tentative hand to Emily's shoulder but she shrunk away from him.

"But I didn't want to have to ask for it."

**A/N: Please (pretty please) review! I would love to know all of your thoughts.**


	54. Jessica

Hotch had absolutely no response in mind. He just tucked in his lips in thought, eying Emily intensely, as if that were where he would find the answer.

"I'm not mad at you for the decision you've made," Emily said after a few moments' silence. "I'm not mad at you at all. I'm just…kind of hurt. I can see your side of the argument to a certain extent. I obviously don't buy it, but you are Jack's father and you have a right to make that sort of decision for him. Just…forget what I said about how I feel. This isn't about me and how I wanted a say in the situation. So just forget about it. Do what you think is best." Emily shrugged her shoulders in some odd mixture of decisiveness and resignation and turned to go back up the stairs.

Hotch's first instinct was to say Emily's name again, to keep her from walking away angry at him. He hated fighting with her about even the littlest things, and she could deny to him that she was angry until the cows came home, but he knew she was deeply upset. But as much as it hurt to see her walking away in pain—pain he'd caused—he didn't call her back. He didn't know what he could say to make this any better.

While Hotch's feet remained planted at the foot of the stairs, Emily's carried her to her bedroom at the top, where she shut the door to change, then opened it a crack for the boys. Hotch didn't move an inch until he saw Emily's room go dark.

Sleep sounded quite appealing to Hotch, but he couldn't bring himself to walk past Emily's room to get to his own just now; he didn't know if he could resist the urge to peek inside and ask her if she was all right. He hadn't known what to say when she'd walked away from him, but now variations of "I'm sorry" and "I know I seem like an asshole" ran through his head. He could think of a dozen things he wanted to say to her—some of them kind and reasonable, others not so much, like telling her that if they were in a relationship then maybe things would be different. As true as that was, he knew it wasn't at all fair to Emily or to Jack. Or Henry or Charlotte, for that matter. He couldn't base this decision on whether he and Emily shared a bed. The type of relationship they had had no impact on the lengths she would go to keep Jack safe and happy. Hotch knew Emily loved him just as much as Jessica did, even though Emily was still not as confident in her role as a mother figure to Jack. Whether she was sleeping with Hotch would never change how much she cared about Jack.

But the guilt still overcame Hotch. Living with Emily already felt like an insult to Haley's memory, given Haley's qualms about Hotch spending time with Emily. In essence naming Emily as more important to Jack's well being than Jessica was just seemed to Hotch like pouring salt in the wound. Of course, he realized Haley was dead, and he couldn't actually hurt her any more than he already had. But he couldn't reason his way out of the shame he felt.

Not even the fact that he knew Emily was right—that Jack had siblings, for all intents and purposes, now—could talk Hotch out of this. Not now, anyway. He needed to sleep on it. Of course, that would involve the dangerous trek past Emily's door. For now, he decided to empty the dishwasher and make Jack's lunch for tomorrow—two things that would save him time in the morning.

Meanwhile, Emily sat up in bed, in the dark, her hands clasped together in her lap. She had of course foreseen Jessica already being in the will, had known Hotch would feel apprehensive about asking Jessica to step down, had foreseen him wanting to delay that a little.

But she hadn't considered the notion that she was only Jack's mom when it was convenient for Hotch. And she hadn't predicted that Hotch would virtually ignore his other two children in making the decision. She'd apparently been giving him too much credit. A chill coursed through her body, accompanied by the realization that as much Hotch gave off the notion that they were a family, as much as he had insisted that the court of law couldn't tear them apart, he didn't truly feel that way. Or he had a much different definition of family than Emily did. Blood was still thicker than water for him.

—

Hotch made double strength coffee the next morning. He was seriously considering going to the doctor for a sleep aid prescription, as every little bump in the road with Emily seemed to keep him up half the night. Not to mention getting up to tend to Charlotte every other night.

"Morning," Emily barely even murmured as she walked past Hotch.

"Good morning," he returned, not much more loudly.

"Did you get something out for dinner already?" she asked.

"Not yet. I'm trying to figure out what Jessica would rather have." He eyed Emily's back as she poured her coffee. She didn't stop mid-pour like he'd expected her to.

"Why are you having her over for dinner? Not that I have anything against it, but is there a special occasion? Is it her birthday?" Emily asked, hoping she was right, hoping Hotch wasn't inviting Jessica over for potentially more drama than they had created for themselves the night before.

"I want to talk to her about Jack," Hotch said as Emily turned around, mixing creamer into her coffee.

"Oh?" Emily's heart fluttered.

"I thought about what you said, and I think pretty much every point you made was valid. I can't force her, though. I can't get past the possibility of hurting her like that, of pushing her away. But I will ask her if she would be willing to let you take her place."

Emily realized her mouth had dropped open just slightly over the course of Hotch's explanation. She'd gone to sleep (rather late) thinking that she had her work cut out for her. But now she thought that maybe she'd been too glass-half-empty. Maybe things would work out right after all. "I'm not complaining at all, but just wondering—is a family dinner the best time for this kind of conversation?"

"I think she'll be more easily persuaded if she sees us function as a family for more than three minutes," Hotch replied, alluding to the one time Jessica had seen all of them together when she'd come to get Jack on a Friday night.

Emily nodded. "That makes sense." She granted Hotch a small hint of gratitude.

"I'm sorry about last night. I really am," Hotch said, setting his coffee on the counter. "I know you said a few times that this wasn't about your feelings, but it really is. I can't expect you to do what you're doing while feeling like I don't believe in you enough. Even if…Jessica doesn't want you to take her place, I need you to know that I would be upset. I want this family to stay together. And I do see us as a family. An unconventional one, but one all the same. I think that the way I acted last night said just the opposite. But I want you to know that I don't take this lightly."

Emily desperately wanted to note that it was Hotch's last will and testament they were talking about, not Hotch _and_ _Jessica's_, but this was definitely a step in the right direction. So she nodded. Hotch looked like he wanted to apologize again, so Emily gave him an out. "So she already agreed to dinner?"

"I just talked to her a few minutes ago. Six-thirty."

—

"Hi Auntie Jessie," Jack said casually when Hotch welcomed Jessica inside.

"Hi, sweetie," she said, crouching down to pull him into a hug. "How've you been? How was school?"

"Good," he replied, providing no detail.

"That's good." Jessica smiled somewhat falsely at Hotch.

"Emily's upstairs somewhere. She'll be down in a minute and we can eat. Hungry?"

"Starving."

"Speak of the devil," Hotch said when he heard Emily's footsteps coming down the stairs.

"Oh, hi, Jessica," Emily said, Charlotte lying awake and content against her chest.

Jessica nodded as kindly as she could manage. "Hi. How are things?"

"Great," Hotch and Emily answered together. "Let's eat," said the former.

—

Hotch and Emily cast each other furtive glances all through dinner, every time Jessica looked down at her plate, or across the table to Jack, who enjoyed the attention, but not really any more than similar attention from Emily.

"Can I have more potatoes, Mommy?" Jack asked, having wolfed down all of his dinner. Emily's lips disappeared into her mouth and Hotch's eyebrows arched in fear. Neither one of them had been prepared for this—they knew they were comfortable with it, but hadn't thought of how others—namely Jessica—might feel. Hotch sneaked a look at Jessica while Emily went into the kitchen to dish out more potatoes for Jack. Jessica looked brokenhearted and furious at the same time.

"What did he just call her?" she asked Hotch, not bothering to disguise her disdain for the name, or even to pretend she was talking about something or someone else entirely.

"Emily's my mommy," Jack proclaimed proudly.

Hotch saw Jessica's lip quiver for half a moment before she got it under control. To Hotch, it looked like she was deliberating correcting Jack and telling him that his real mommy was in heaven, or something to that effect, versus playing along. "That's nice, honey," she said, apparently going for the latter option, at least for now.

Emily purposely took her time in the kitchen, waiting to make sure Jessica didn't fly off the handle before she joined everyone in the dining room again. Emily wasn't like Garcia in reading into energies and auras—not usually. But right now she felt a very hostile energy, and she distracted herself from Jessica's occasional stares by trying to figure out what color the energy of the room was. Blood red, she decided, having no idea if she was right. Her stomach lurched throughout the rest of the meal, knowing what was to come. There was still some daylight and warmth left, so the boys were allowed to go out back to play once they were done eating, which afforded the adults the talking time they needed.

"Want some coffee, Jess?" Hotch offered before anyone sat down in the living room.

"Sure," she said with a sigh, taking the recliner, not subtle about her desire to sit far away from Emily. But she did have a hard time keeping her eyes off of Charlotte, who lay awake on Emily's lap, her feet at Emily's stomach, head at her knees. Emily's feet were propped up in the coffee table.

"Want to hold her?" Emily offered tentatively.

Jessica had _some_ tact intact, so she grinned met Emily halfway between their seats to take the baby. "Hey, there," she said with a smile, seemingly realizing that it wasn't the baby she couldn't stand. Only the woman who'd forced the baby upon her only nephew, effectually stealing him away from her. "She's cute," she said rather blankly.

"Yeah." Emily wished she could nonverbally communicate with Hotch, who was out of sight, to hurry the hell up. Jessica thankfully occupied herself with the baby instead of making the lull in conversation more awkward by staring at Emily some more, or instead of bringing up the "mommy" issue that had bothered her so much before. Emily had tried going into tonight's dinner with an open mind, but she couldn't help but think that Jessica was cooking up some scheme to make everybody feel guilty simply for letting Jack do what he wanted to do—define his family.

Emily rarely drank coffee at night, even decaf, so Hotch only brought in two cups.

"So why am I here?" Jessica asked. "You said on the phone this morning that you had something you wanted to talk to me about."

"Yes," Hotch said after a pause. "First off, Emily and I were ruled legal guardians yesterday. We plan on petitioning for adoption as soon as we have the time to sit down with an attorney."

Jessica nodded slowly, as if she were expecting news of that sort. "Congratulations." Not an ounce of sincerity could be found in her voice. Emily's open-mindedness was waning more quickly now. She didn't understand how someone could be so condemnatory toward something about which she knew so little. This had been the longest time Jessica had spent at the house since Emily, Henry, and Charlotte had moved in, and she had seen them function like a normal, charming family, yet she still couldn't deal with the fact that Hotch, and thereby Jack, were happy. Apparently the only thing that would pacify Jessica would be for Hotch and Jack to need only her. For Emily and the "extra" children to be out of the picture.

"Thank you," Hotch said with a little more feeling. "Also, there's something I wanted to ask you. I'm just going to cut to the chase. Jack's obviously grown very comfortable around Emily and sees her as a mother figure. Just the other night he asked me if he could call Emily 'mommy' and I couldn't tell him no. Who am I to deny him a mother, you know? So that's what he calls her now."

Jessica's shrug was meant to give off the air that she couldn't care less, but it did just the opposite. "All right."

"And uh, to the question I wanted to ask. Emily and I think that it would be best for all three of the children if Emily were named Jack's guardian in my will, should anything happen to me." Hotch's words grew quieter and less enunciated as his sentence came to a close. "And as you know, you've always held that spot. But living with Henry and Charlotte means that Jack is going to see them as siblings, even though he knows they're not blood-related. If he can call Emily 'mommy' than it won't be long before he introduces Henry and Charlotte as his brother and sister. I think that's good for him. He doesn't have many extended family members, and he's getting along really well in this situation. We just—_I_ just—think it would be unwise to take this all away from him in the event that I pass away. Losing a father would already be painful enough. To lose his entire immediate family, however odd it is, would be even more devastating."

Hotch had sat down next to Emily, but not too close, and both of them watched anxiously while Jessica's features grew more pronounced, but not any more readable. She handed the baby off to Hotch rather suddenly. "What exactly is your question?" she asked both of them.

"Would you be willing to relinquish that position? And be, well, second in line?" Hotch asked before he could chicken out. "I've explained our reasoning as well as I can, I think. And I'm hoping you see our—" Hotch stopped and sighed when Jessica shook her head, her hands swiping tears quickly from her cheeks. "Jessica?"

"How could you even think of asking me that?"

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave reviews!  
**


	55. Catch 22

Hotch sighed and cast Emily a sidelong, defeated glance. "You don't have to," he told Jessica. "You're family. I know you'd do anything for Jack. So if you want to remain first in line, then I'll respect that."

Emily's eyes stung with tears she managed to hold back. Just like that, Hotch was sympathizing completely with Jessica again. She knew Jessica resented her for somehow stealing Jack away from her, but Jessica had been told by Hotch several times that she was welcome over anytime, and she had chosen to distance herself from Emily, Charlotte, and Henry. She could have gotten to know them quite well by now, could have seen that Jack was happy where he was, and could have been a part of it, but what Emily saw was someone who was afraid of losing her family but unwilling to take action to prevent that from happening. Instead of spending time with the entire family, she took Jack for a day a week and pretended Emily and the other children were some sort of enemy.

"Good," Jessica said coldly. "I still can't believe that you would even ask me that, though. I get that you like playing house, that you're enjoying yourself, but I'm the surest bet he has, and you know that. I'm more insulted than I can say."

"I didn't mean to insult you," Hotch said, clearly regretting bringing this subject up with Jessica at all. Even though she knew she shouldn't, even though she knew she was trying to keep the kids' best interests at heart, Emily felt guilty for putting Hotch in this position, for insulting his family. No matter how poorly Jessica thought of Emily, Charlotte, and Henry, Emily could see why Jessica would be hurt.

"Neither did I," Emily piped in. "It's just…we have three kids who are living under the same roof, and even though they're not related, they're going to grow closer and closer. I wasn't trying to take Jack away from you, and I of course don't want him to forget his mother, but if he wants a mom, I can't see how I can deprive him of that. But I can see why this all scares you. But I don't know how else to react. I guess I should let you two talk. I shouldn't have intruded on a family matter. I'm sorry." Emily _was_ sincerely sorry for invading Jessica's turf, but at the same time she couldn't help but feel deeply wounded herself. "It's, uh, bath night for Charlotte, so I'll go take care of that." Emily offered a lazy grin to no one in particular and went upstairs without another word. "Remember what I said about boys being stupid, or something along those lines?" she asked Charlotte quietly once she turned on the bath water and situated the baby's seat. "Well, I guess you got to see it in action." She waited until the bath was ready before undressing the baby. Even though the bathroom door was shut, she could hear Jessica's shrill voice loud and clear once she turned the water off. She considered turning the sink faucet on to drown her out, but felt she had a right to hear whatever Jessica had to say about her.

"What the hell are you thinking, Aaron?"

"I'm trying to find a way to take everyone's feelings into consideration—"

"Well, you missed someone," Jessica spat. "You're putting her over me because she guilted you into it. Am I right?" Hotch didn't answer. "Or did she offer to finally let you in her pants if you did things her way?" Still, no answer.

Emily had heard worse things said about her during her lifetime, but never before had she felt like no one was there to defend her. She bit her lip to hold back the tears caused not only by Hotch letting her get attacked, but by the confirmation that Hotch didn't see the five of them as a family. If he did, he would at least try to keep Jessica from sullying Emily's name, or keep Jessica from forgetting that there were innocent children involved who'd done nothing to deserve her lack of consideration. If he did think of the five of them as a real family, he wouldn't let himself be controlled by someone—family or not—who was so narrow-minded that she thought she was the only option for Jack's happiness. A woman who couldn't get past her own issues with Emily to spend more time with her nephew. A woman who saw Emily as nothing but selfish.

_Am I being completely selfish?_ Emily wondered. Of course, she was scared of the possibility of losing Jack, however hypothetical Hotch's death was, and she knew that if Jack was ever taken from her like that, she would be devastated. She loved him to pieces. But it wasn't only about her. JJ and Will had asked for Henry and Charlotte to be raised under the same roof, with two parents. Surely this pattern of thought would have favored their two children not being separated from loved ones again. And suddenly Emily realized that no matter how all of this played out, she would be the bad guy. If Hotch changed his will, something she now highly doubted he would do, Jessica would loathe her now more than ever before. If Jessica remained Hotch's first choice, then Emily would be letting Jessica walk all over her in the interest of minimizing chaos, instead of standing up for the children's best interests.

"She's manipulating you, Aaron. You do realize that, don't you? I don't give a damn how much she _says_ she loves Jack. If she really loved him then she wouldn't have torn him away from half of his family. She wouldn't have asked you to do this with her. She would've raised the other two kids on her own."

Emily finally couldn't take any more and turned on the bathroom faucet, her eyes and nose running freely now. "You don't need to hear that," she said shakily to the baby, who shivered. Emily made quick work of washing her up and wrapped her up in her towel. All she heard once she turned the faucet off, and until she got to the nursery, was Jessica putting more words into Hotch's mouth, saying things that appalled Emily more and more. Not a single word did she hear from him. Emily hoped the boys wouldn't walk in on that. As much as she wanted to walk downstairs and give Jessica a good old fashioned bitch slap, she didn't want the boys to think of any of the adults in that way. She didn't need them learning how to fight beyond stealing each other's toys now and again. And Jack certainly didn't need to see his aunt in that light. Emily was confident that this was Jessica's worst side, that this wasn't how she always behaved.

"Hang on," she said gently to the baby, who started to fuss from not yet being dried off completely. Jessica's voice rang even louder from the nursery. Emily's room wouldn't be any better, as it was right at the top of the stairs, so Emily just gritted her teeth, put the baby into her pajamas, and got comfortable with her in the glider.

"Did you honestly think I would find it in Jack's _best interests_ to give him up? Don't forget that I took care of him before you got into this whole mess. _I'm_ his family, Aaron. _This_ is some fantasy of yours."

"Now would be a good time for someone to grow a pair and tell his ex sister-in-law that she can see Jack all she wants. All she has to do is open up her mind a little and come over," Emily said to the baby as they rocked to and fro together. She drew in a quivering breath before more tears rushed down her cheeks. "I don't know what I did to her personally to make her hate me so much, but who needs her, right? I have you guys." She dropped a lingering kiss on the top of the baby's head.

Emily miraculously managed to tune out of the rest of what Jessica nearly shouted at Hotch. The front door closed not so gently a while later, shaking Emily from her daze. She realized the baby had fallen asleep earlier than scheduled, which would mean trouble in a couple of hours. That was her own fault for sitting and rocking her, she supposed. She sniffled and ran her thumb under each eye right before she heard a soft knock on the nursery door.

"Yeah," she said just loudly enough. Hotch stepped cautiously inside.

"I'm sorry. I tried."

Emily kept a straight face and a cool voice. "I didn't hear a single word out of your mouth the entire time. And I wasn't eavesdropping—there was nowhere to go in this house and not hear her yelling. In any case, don't apologize to _me_. Not for something Jessica said or did, anyway." Emily stared at her feet.

"I just…didn't know what to say to her to stop her. I know she said some nasty things about you—"

"'Nasty' is a pretty generous assessment. Or did she speak some truth down there? Would things be different if we were together? Would you actually see me as a satisfactory mother figure for Jack if we were sleeping together. Is that it? Am I not worthy of a little respect because I won't put out?"

"You know that's not true," Hotch said timidly.

"I'm not sure I _do_ know. Because I heard her suggest that I'm somehow trying to bribe you with sex. The absolute absurdity and offensiveness of that comment is nothing compared to how you just _let_ her say it. I'm apparently not worth defending, and that hurts me in ways I can't describe."

"Emily—"

"If you two think that things are correct as they stand in terms of Jack, then I'll accept that. But I can't pretend to be okay with you letting her talk about me like that behind my back. It makes me doubt whether you're really in this or if you're still on the fence. But at least it's relieving in the sense that I'm glad we didn't get together, because apparently, you don't have my back in this, so I can't trust you to have my back elsewhere."

Emily had gotten a good amount of the bitterness out and felt like she could still go on, but she felt she needed to give Hotch a chance to defend himself. After all, feeling defenseless was what had _her_ so upset.

"This is a complicated situation. Jessica did disrespect you. I won't deny that. I'm sorry you had to hear it. But you have to understand that Jack is like a son to her, too. He's all she's got, really. And she lost that when all of this happened."

"If she could suck it up and come over instead of treating me and the babies like lepers, she could see Jack all she wanted. Hell, she could have moved in if she wanted. The more the merrier. If that's what would have made everyone happy. But she cut off her nose to spite her face, and you know it. It's like she's happier being angry at me and making me feel guilty than she is being with Jack. If she really wanted to see him more, she could."

"You're not always the most receptive person," Hotch pointed out.

"I've talked to her maybe two or three times since this started, Aaron. For a combined total of maybe ten minutes. And I was as kind as I knew how to be, considering she's basically a stranger to me. How I really feel about her has nothing to do with why she hasn't come over, because I've never _told_ her how I feel about her."

"How _do_ you feel about her?" Hotch asked, leaning against the side of the crib.

Emily shrugged. Her eyes were still glued to her feet. "Part of me feels sorry for her, because she didn't ask for this to happen. But part of me just can't see how she can be so hateful toward someone she doesn't know, and so scared of letting Jack be happy with anyone but her. I wish I could genuinely like her. I really do. I want Jack to have as much family around as possible. But that…_display_ down there…didn't make me eager to befriend her. Let's just put it that way."

"She can be volatile, I know."

"And so can I. But I hope that if I ever say things like that about another person, you'll stand up for whomever it is I'm bad-mouthing."

Hotch didn't feel like an apology would really cut it. Emily needed time to be angry at him without feeling guilty about not forgiving him. So he just let her continue.

"I just feel like I can't please anyone. If I try to do what I feel is right for the kids—what a _professional_ told us was right for the kids—then I'm Yoko Ono or something because I'm breaking people up. But if I let blood take precedence, then I'm weak and not devoted enough to _my_ family enough, and I'll be risking the kids' well being just because I didn't want to cause any more trouble. I mean, what am I supposed to do? Will this all go away if we just go off and get married? Would Jessica be satisfied then? Would you have more faith in this? Because really, this is the same thing as a marriage except that we keep our hands to ourselves. Is sex what you want?"

"You _know_ that I would never want you to feel obligated to be with me. Don't put words in my mouth, please."

Emily nodded, realizing her mistake. "Sorry," she said with genuine feeling, though at the same time she resented the fact that Hotch hadn't really given her a good apology yet. "I want to do what's right, but I honestly have no idea what that is anymore. Things felt better when I knew you had my back. Even if I wasn't a hundred percent sure of what we were doing, at least we had a united front. I just can't get past the fact right now that you let her say all that shit about me and didn't say a word. I wish I could get over it, but I can't right now. I don't think any further conversation between us right now is going to be productive. I'm not really thinking straight."

"I'm sorry."

Emily wanted to say that if Hotch were truly sorry, he'd stand up for her, go after Jessica, set things straight. But she knew that she herself had apologized for choosing not to be with Hotch, and hadn't slept with him as a means of apologizing. So she couldn't expect Hotch to apologize and then go after more drama with Jessica. Sometimes a verbal apology had to cut it. So she shrugged. "You were between a rock and a hard place."

"I was, but I had a little wiggle room and was too scared to use it. Please, though, don't take any of what she said seriously. She was venting in her own way. I promise you that this has nothing to do with you and me. Regardless of whether we're in a relationship, this would have been a hard choice for me to make, and I still wouldn't have forced Jessica to step down."

Was Hotch saying that even if he and Emily were together, he wouldn't offer Emily the chance to adopt Jack? She didn't want to get even more hypothetical with him, as her head was already spinning, so she shook that possibility from her mind. "Regardless of whether she meant what she said, or whether what she said is true, I can't keep it from hurting me. Because it was your silence that cut to the bone, not necessarily what she said. But you said you're sorry, and I believe you. She seems like a difficult person to deal with."

"It's still no excuse. I should have stood up for you."

Emily's shoulders twitched. "I just want to know that you see us as a family. On the same level as Jessica. And even though you're sorry that you hurt me by letting Jessica say those things about me, I wonder if it's symptomatic of a bigger problem than you just not being able to stand up to her. It makes me wonder if you're really in this. You insist that you are, but you still immediately put Jessica above me once she showed resistance. I know she feels second rate lately, but that's on her. She could come over every night if she wanted to. She could have been a part of this from the very start. She doesn't _have_ to feel left out. She has a choice. But us three? I'm right here in front of you, and so are Henry and Charlotte. You see us every day. And with very few exceptions, you've supported us. And I've done everything I know how to make this family seem a little more normal. I try not to treat Jack differently than Henry and Charlotte. I try to do what I can for you in some sort of wifely role, besides the obvious. But I _still_ feel like Henry and Charlotte and I aren't family to you. And I'm sorry that I can't be with you in that way, because maybe that would help convince you that this whole thing is the real deal. But I didn't think you'd need convincing. I thought you were in this a hundred percent. I thought you saw the five of us as a real family. But now I'm not so sure. Maybe I'm making mountains out of molehills, but if you're not completely devoted to this, then what are we doing?" Emily couldn't believe she'd managed to say that all without breaking down any further.

Hotch's face grew softer and softer the more Emily spoke. When she'd finished, with a heart wrenching look thrown his way, he took the two steps over to the chair in which she sat and crouched down so he was level with her. "I _am_ in this a hundred percent. I'm sorry that I let you doubt that. I'll do anything you ask me to in order to prove that to you."

Emily shook her head, ending in staring at her feet again. "I can't ask you to do anything," she said. "Some things because asking you wouldn't be appropriate, and other things because I think they're silly and aren't really necessary." The touch of a rough hand to her cheek almost made her jump. She turned to face Hotch who was quite close.

"Tell me what they are," he said gently. "I've let you doubt me and that's not okay with me. I want to make it right."

Yet again, a war was being waged in Emily's head. On one hand, she thought it was somewhat cowardly of Hotch to say that she had to _ask_ him to prove himself. He _knew_ what he could do. Why was he asking her to name things off? On the other hand, he sounded so downright sincerely sorry. And she just couldn't stand the feeling of them not being on the same page, not getting along. She never slept well after any major issues popped up between them. She wanted almost nothing more than to go to bed tonight knowing that she and Hotch were going to be okay. "It's okay," she whispered. "I believe you." And she did, at least for now. She made sure to give him one good long look in the eye to make him believe her. "I think I just needed to hear it from you."

"I think I should have done a better job at letting you know." Hotch couldn't help but place his hand on Emily's crown and run it back down through her hair, rubbing at her back where it stopped. Emily's breath caught in her throat at Hotch's touch. "I wish this were easier. I'll make this up to you. I promise."

Emily couldn't bring herself to ask Hotch whether that meant he'd change the will or do something else entirely. But she knew she couldn't harp on the will issue anymore tonight. Ninety percent of her doubts were assuaged for the time being, and she figured that was good enough to let her get a good night's sleep. She gave Hotch a peaceful sort of look—but not a smile—and rose to put Charlotte in her crib. Hotch stood in her way when she turned to exit the nursery. His arms open, she had nowhere to go but between them. His hugs made it so hard to remain upset with him. Maybe because she knew he wasn't normally a hugger. At least he hadn't been in the past. Having three kids and an overly emotional friend may have changed that, though.

"Did I overreact again?" she asked, her cheek mashed against his chest.

"Not at all."

"Honest?"

"Emily, you're the only one of us adults who's been keeping the kids in mind. All of them. Not just Jack. Everything you're feeling is completely justified."

"But I can't even feel these things without getting all worked up and blubbering like an idiot."

"You did all right," Hotch said lightly, rubbing a hand up and down Emily's back while they swayed together.

"If I said anything that was hurtful, I'm sorry."

"You didn't."

Emily remembered full well that she'd said she was glad she and Hotch hadn't gotten together. It seemed like every day that became a little less and less true. But she wasn't going to bring it back up. Not if he wasn't going to. Either he'd forgotten all about her angry comment or was choosing to put it aside, like she was.

"We should probably get the boys inside."

"Hey, you know what?" Hotch said as he waited outside the bathroom door while Emily washed her face. "Tomorrow's Friday."

"Seriously? Monday feels like a year ago. Thank God."

"Tell me about it." Hotch waited for Emily to emerge before saying, "Why don't you and I go out for dinner tomorrow night? Just us. No kids."

Emily gave Hotch an odd look and padded down the stairs. "Why?"

"Because we've had a roller coaster of a week, and I think we should try to end it on a high note." Hotch eyed Emily warily as she opened the back door and called the boys inside. "Seriously, my treat."

"I still haven't gone over to my mother's," Emily said.

"Do that Saturday."

"How do we do this?" Emily asked vaguely as Jack and Henry ran around and between her legs, respectively, and through the living room.

Where's Auntie Jessie, Daddy?" Jack asked.

"She had to go home, buddy. How do we do what?" he asked Emily.

"Fight and then be perfectly okay right afterward."

"_Are_ we 'perfectly okay?'" Hotch asked, picking up his and Jessica's coffee cups.

Emily pursed her lips. She knew that right now, she had an overwhelming need to be at peace with Hotch. Maybe by the time she made it to bed, she'd mull things over and decide that she couldn't forgive him that easily. Not that she _wanted_ to be angry at him, but she didn't want to fake happiness either, not for too long. One of the best parts of their friendship was their ability to be honest with one another eventually. In any case, things were acceptable for the time being. "I think we'll be okay."

"So I can take you out to dinner?" Hotch asked hopefully.

Emily arched an eyebrow at Hotch, a tiny grin just playing at her lips.

"Completely innocent, I swear," Hotch said, holding both hands up at his sides. "We can even go somewhere without a liquor license."

**A/N: Please keep reviewing!  
**


	56. Nice and Raw Again

"Congratulations! What did I tell you?" Garcia asked Emily upon hearing the news that Hotch and Emily had been named legal guardians of Henry and Charlotte. "See, everything's going to be fine." She touched Emily's shoulder, and the latter nodded with a half-hearted smile. They were waiting for Hotch to get home with the kids, at which point he and Emily would go out for a dinner that Emily had thought about canceling a thousand times that day. On top of having had baby duty the night before, the events of the two days prior had robbed her of the possibility of peaceful sleep. Therefore, she'd only clocked in a few broken up hours of shut-eye.

It wasn't only her exhaustion that made her want to call off dinner with Hotch. She knew what she had to say to him, which meant that Hotch, who'd gone to bed at much more peace than she, would have his bubble burst. She'd told him he was off the hook, but hours of tossing and turning had provided Emily with the chance to think things over on her own and come to the conclusion that this situation was anything but resolved. And her fear that Hotch wasn't committed to their family was anything but alleviated.

"Okay, what's going on?" Garcia asked warily. "You should be ecstatic about the kids."

"I am," Emily said.

"Then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

Emily shook her head. "It's something Hotch and I need to talk about tonight. He's under the impression that everything's fine—"

"Fine with what? Did you guys have another, you know…?" Garcia took a seat at the island, prompting Emily to do the same.

"No, nothing like that. I brought up Hotch's will and asked him what he planned to do with Jack, and he told me Jessica would get Jack and he didn't plan on changing it."

Garcia's face went slack. "I'm sorry, sweetie…Did you tell him how you felt?"

"I told him that I thought it wouldn't be fair to the kids to split them up should something happen to him, that Jack is basically a brother to Henry and Charlotte, and that bond will only grow stronger, but he's basically scared of hurting Jessica's feelings. And I get it. I really do. Jessica loves Jack, and she didn't do anything to deserve any of this. But I feel like he's separated what I see as one family into two separate families. You know, me and the babies over here, and him and Jack over there. And then he puts them all together only when it works for him. And it doesn't work for him right now, because he's hung up on not insulting Haley's memory and on making sure he and Jessica are even. He's not taking the kids into consideration. He's only focused on Haley and Jessica. And it just really makes me think that he doesn't see himself as a dad to Henry and Charlotte. Even though Henry calls him 'daddy' and Hotch is completely unfazed by it. But I guess he just sees Henry and Charlotte as more of my responsibility. I don't know. I'm terrified. Maybe this was all just one huge mistake. Maybe I should've gone against what JJ wanted and taken the kids on my own."

"Whoa, slow down. Honey, this isn't always going to be easy. You just need to talk to him."

"I _tried_," Emily groaned. "And we even got to the point where he agreed that it would be best for the kids to stay together, but he still wouldn't change his will unless Jessica was okay with it. So he had her over for dinner last night and brought it up to her, and she didn't take it well at all. I left before things got too hairy, went upstairs with the baby, but I could hear her insinuating all these nasty things about me, and Hotch just sat there and didn't say a word. The fact that he doesn't think I'm worth defending has little to do with why I'm so upset right now, though. It's just kind of the icing on the fucking cake. I tore him a new one for it and he apologized, and I asked him if maybe what Jessica was saying about me were true—"

"What did she say about you?"

"I already feel like I'm gossiping about her," Emily objected.

"If she said things about _you_, then it's not gossiping to share it with a friend. It obviously hurt you. Tell me."

"The worst of it was her accusing me of bribing Hotch into putting my name in the will."

"Bribing him with what?"

"Sex."

Garcia rarely looked angry, but she did now. "She seriously said that?"

Emily nodded, feeling the tears about to start up. "And I know it was probably just the heat of the moment. She probably didn't mean to be that harsh. She feels threatened because some other woman came along and she feels like Hotch and Jack are replacing her with that other woman. I get it. She's scared."

"That doesn't give her the right to say those things about you, Em."

"I know, and I shouldn't let it affect me, but I brought it up with Hotch and asked him if things would be different were we together, if he'd have more faith in all of us as a family, and he denied that it was a factor, and then I felt guilty for even asking him. It was just as dirty as what Jessica said to me. But really, I don't know if he was telling the truth. I think that if he and I were together, he'd feel a lot differently, and that just makes me feel guilty for not being with him. The idea that maybe he'd take this all more seriously if he and I were in a relationship makes me feel like I'm in turn depriving the kids of real parents. I feel like unless Hotch changes his mind about the will—for the kids, and not to spare _my_ feelings—that I either need to move forward with him or just…call this whole thing off before the kids get any closer."

Garcia cried before Emily did, leaning across the space between them and wrapping her arms around her. "I understand why you're scared. But please don't get too far ahead of yourself. You and Hotch are perfectly capable of working this out. You've been through a lot together. This is just one more thing—a big thing, yes—but you both care enough about each other to make things work."

"But it's not about us," Emily said, hanging onto Garcia as though her life depended on it. Sometimes she felt as if it really did. "It's about how committed he is to the kids, and yes, to me, but only by way of the kids. And I don't know if I can change his mind about how many families he's a part of. That's something he may not be able to help. I know he doesn't feel that way on purpose."

"You won't know until you talk to him," Garcia said soothingly as she backed away from Emily. She thumbed away a lone tear from her friend's cheek.

Emily nodded. "I know."

"Just don't be too rash with him okay? I know he's being a butthead and I know you're scared, but no ultimatums, okay? Remember the kids. Give them every chance you can to have a normal family."

"This is never going to be a normal family," Emily noted.

"Then give them every chance you can to have both you and Hotch. This issue is only a couple days old. It's probably felt like forever but in the grand scheme of things, it's not that long. Even if it takes Hotch longer than you, I think that eventually he'll completely buy into the one-family idea. It's just harder for him because he already had Jack and Jessica coming into this. You didn't have any family you had to bring into this, but he did."

Emily nodded. "You're right."

"Well, I am Penelope Garcia, so that goes without saying." Garcia got a little chuckle out of Emily right before the front door started to open. "Go take a minute to freshen up. I'll tell him you're changing. Hurry," Garcia said, shooing Emily from the room before the door opened all the way. Emily hurried upstairs and Garcia greeted Hotch at the door.

"Hey," Hotch said with a smile. "Thanks again for coming over last minute."

"Easy to tear myself away from work when it's to spend time with the munchkins."

"It's appreciated all the same. Where's Emily?"

"She's upstairs," Garcia said, trying to remember what Emily had been wearing. Jeans. "I think she said she wanted to wear jeans, so she was going to change out of her work clothes. Maybe you should, too."

"Good idea," Hotch said as he helped Henry out of his shoes. "If they want to go outside, they have some muddy shoes by the back door," he explained.

"Got it."

—

Emily had purposely given Hotch no opportunity to talk to her one-on-one that morning, not sure yet what she wanted to say to him, so when Hotch drove them to dinner, it was the first time he'd really spoken to her since the night before. "You sleep okay last night?"

Emily shrugged. "Not really, but I'll live."

Hotch cast Emily a worried glance but didn't say anything. Asking her if she was okay would be silly. It was obvious that she wasn't. He of course hadn't thought everything was perfectly fine between them again—he knew he'd hurt her—but he'd expected to see Emily a little more chipper than she was.

"What're we doing for dinner?" Emily asked.

"I don't know, I thought we'd just get in the car and figure it out."

"We've been driving for five minutes," Emily said. "So not in any specific direction?"

"I figured if something caught my eye, I'd suggest it. See anything that looks good, let me know."

"Okay." Not interested in prolonging the silent car ride, Emily pointed out the next restaurant they came to. They had nearly an hour's wait but knew they wouldn't be better off anywhere else on a Friday night, at least nowhere nice enough worth going out for, so they found a bench outside.

"How was your day?" Hotch asked once they were seated.

"Okay, yours?"

"Okay. Glad it's the weekend."

"Tell me about it," Emily said, slouching over and trying to crack her neck. She felt a jolt of electricity when Hotch's hand gripped her shoulder, right near her neck, and dug his fingers and thumb into her muscles. "Thanks, but it's my neck that's killing me, not my shoulders," she said kindly, continuing to twist her neck, grateful that there was nothing appropriate that Hotch could do with his hands to help her there.

Hotch sighed nearly inaudibly and removed his hand. He wasn't sure what he'd been thinking.

"Listen, we need to talk," Emily said cautiously. "Would you rather talk now or over dinner?"

"Good talk or bad talk?" Hotch asked needlessly.

"You know the answer to that," Emily said flatly. She rolled in her lips and looked at Hotch, who stared straight ahead.

"Now's fine," he said. The other customers who were waiting for a table were gathered right neat the front doors or at the bar inside, so he and Emily had more privacy now than they would over food anyway. "What's on your mind?"

"I'm scared," Emily said, cutting to the chase. With the whole explanation of her feelings fresh in her mind thanks to her talk with Garcia, she had little desire to tip-toe around things. She wanted to get things out while she remembered the words.

Hotch turned to make eye contact with Emily. "Of what?"

"Of…you not being committed to us. To this family. And I know I said last night that we'd be fine, but I shouldn't have said that. I just wanted to be at peace with you for the night. It was selfish of me to let you think that we were okay."

"I am committed," he said simply.

Emily shook her head. "I'm not trying to put words in your mouth, but this is how I see it. Henry and Charlotte are our kids. For all intents and purposes. And I love them. And I know you do, too. But I feel like your decision when it comes to Jack takes only the adults' feelings into consideration. Namely Jessica's and Haley's. I know you're scared of hurting Jessica, and I know she doesn't deserve this, but I stand by what I said last night. _She_ chose to distance herself from Jack once things got uncomfortable for her. Because she's against this. She doesn't like me for whatever reason, and to each her own. But her attitude toward me means she has negative feelings toward Henry and Charlotte, too. And they didn't do anything to deserve that. And that alone just makes it really hard for me to see Jessica's side. But I do, somewhat, at least. But just because she's hurting doesn't mean that the kids' feelings shouldn't be taken into account. I don't doubt that she loves Jack like a mother would a son. But for some reason, her judgment is severely clouded. And I think yours is, too."

Hotch furrowed his brow and maintained an intense stare at Emily. But he sensed she wasn't done, and he had nothing of worth to contribute to the conversation, so he didn't interrupt.

"Like I said last night, we're raising two brothers and a sister. At least, the longer we go on, the more it will feel that way to them, even though it's not legal. Even though your death is hypothetical, let's face it—JJ and Will dying and leaving behind their kids is exactly what got us here. So I hope it doesn't seem silly that I keep harping on this. But if, God forbid, you die, and Jessica gets custody of Jack, then not only will Jack have lost both his parents, but he'll have lost his brother and sister, too. Let's leave me out of the picture completely. I want you to know that the kids' feelings are way more important than mine. Anyway, not only will Jack lose all of that, but Henry and Charlotte will, too. Especially if it's a few years down the road and they're all old enough to understand the siblings thing. So there would be three kids, all of whom have lost both their biological parents, deprived of yet another relationship, all for the sake of sparing the feelings of _adults_. All three of the kids are completely helpless, Aaron."

"I know," Hotch answered quietly, his eyes shifting to the ground. Emily's subsequently did the same.

"And not only that, but the fact that you're willing to let Jack go back to his aunt and leave Charlotte and Henry with me…it just makes me feel like you don't see this as one family. I know that part of the reason behind that is because you and I are only friends, and that's my doing. That's my fault. But how is it fair to the kids to base their future off of whether we're together? We have the same obligation to them regardless. Whether we're roommates with kids or whether we're a husband and wife with kids, either way, _we have kids._ I doubt that you're intentionally making this about you and me. I don't want to throw around accusations. But I think that on some sort of subconscious level, maybe this is about us. And I think it's our responsibility to learn to ignore that. By going in on this together, we made an agreement that we'd do whatever we could to make these kids safe and happy. And I don't think we are. Maybe if I gave in and I—"

"Don't even say that," Hotch interjected. "Don't blame yourself for wanting to keep things platonic. You can't help how you feel about a relationship with me, for any reason. That can't be forced. And I would never want you to feel guilted into it, like I said. I meant it. I still do."

Emily rolled her lips in and realized how dry they were. "I appreciate that. Then, if we set that issue aside, we're still not doing everything we can. I think we need to ensure that the kids stay together. And it's not like I would never let Jessica see Jack. It may have sounded like a joke when I said it last night, but I'm serious—if she wants to move in with us, I'd have no problem with that, as long as she could do it with a smile on her face. But we can't split the kids up."

Hotch covered the back of his neck with one hand, rubbing hard. "I can see exactly where you're coming from."

"But?" Emily asked in a whisper, sniffling right afterward. She cursed herself for not being able to hold it together, and batted her lashes to fight off the tears.

"But it's…not that simple."

"I never said it was simple. This is such a complex situation, and I fully acknowledge that. This isn't easy for anyone. It's not easy for me, even though if things go the way that I propose, then I would get Jack. But he's not some piece of property. I understand that there are real feelings involved here on everyone's parts. I'm sorry if I'm making it seem like Jack is a possession, but that's now how I see it at all. I just—"

"You don't need to re-explain it all. I heard you the first time."

Emily's blood went cold, even though Hotch didn't snap, was only being straightforward. He was right. She needed to shut up. But she hated the feeling that Hotch was fed up with her. "Sorry," she said.

Hotch sighed. "That came out wrong. All I'm trying to say is that I understand what you're saying."

"Then have you changed your mind? Or do you think you might, given some time?"

"I still need some time to think. Not about whether I see us as a family, which I do. But…like I said, this is complicated."

Emily wished Hotch would stop hiding behind that word. She said nothing, though, merely nodding.

"Don't be scared." Hotch took one of Emily's hands in his own and flattened it against his knee, interlacing fingers with her. "I won't let you down okay?"

As much as Emily knew she should tear her hand away, it felt so perfect where it was. Even if she was disappointed that Hotch hadn't made what she felt was the right choice yet. Even if she was still hurt by his failure to stand up for her. Even if he was the source of every single one of her fears, every single one of her doubts. "That's sweet, but this isn't about me. I wish people would stop thinking—"

"_Any of you_. Not you, not the kids. I'll work this out."

Try as she might, Emily didn't see a way for Hotch to work this out except by changing his will—of course, there were other ways he could try to reassure her of his priorities. But as long as his will remained as it was, then Emily felt like she'd never be able to believe him.

Taking Emily's silence as disbelief, Hotch added, "I promise."

The two of them spent the rest of their wait in contemplative, frightened silence, Hotch wondering what on earth he could do to make things right, and Emily praying in earnest that Hotch would figure it out before her doubts completely overcame her.

—

"How did it go?" Garcia asked Emily quietly once Hotch was upstairs.

Emily shrugged and led Garcia out onto the porch so they could speak in private. "Not terribly. But not great, either. He said he needs time."

"Did you tell him how you felt?"

"I think I went over everything except for the stuff you-know-who said about me while he just sat there. I didn't think that was really appropriate to bring up."

"And why not?" Garcia asked incredulously.

"I don't want to make this about me. Yeah, it hurt. And it still hurts. But I'm not going to get anywhere with him by making him feel guilty for something he already apologized for."

"Em, I don't know if you can be mad at him for not standing up for you if _you_ won't stand up for _yourself_. You need to act like you're worth defending if you want him to defend you."

"Pen, really…it's at the bottom of my list right now. But I did bring up everything else. I laid it all out. Everything is nice and raw again."

Garcia pouted. "Is there anything I can do?"

Emily bit back more tears and nodded. "My God, I'm so emotional. It'd disgusting." Emily took a seat and gestured for Garcia to take the other. "Anyway, yeah, there is something you can do. Tell me about something happy, something nice. How are you and Kevin?"

**A/N: Please leave a review!  
**


	57. Getting off the Roller Coaster

It was three in the morning and Hotch still only drifted in and out of a light sleep. He was fully awoken by the sounds of footsteps up and down the stairs. Adult footsteps. He got out of bed. "Emily?" he said quietly from the top of the stairs. They hadn't said much to each other since dinner. He wondered if maybe she was as restless as he was. She didn't answer, though, and he couldn't hear any more movement. He peeked inside her room, but her covers were indeed turned down and her bed was empty. He padded downstairs and heard the washer knob being turned, then pulled. Then he heard the gush of running water. Emily came up from the basement a few moments later.

"It's me," he said from the top of the basement stairs, not wanting to startle her by having her run into him in the dark while turning a corner.

"Hey," she said quietly as she passed him and shut the door to the stairs.

"What's up? Everything okay?"

"Uh, Jack wet the bed. He came and told me."

"Oh. You should've let me know. I could've taken care of that."

Emily turned and offered Hotch a halfhearted smile. "I don't mind. Anyway, he's in Henry's bed."

They walked up the stairs together. "He didn't ask to sleep in your bed?"

"Nope. Crazy, huh?"

"Yeah…" Hotch marveled.

"'Night," Emily said, heading into her room.

"Goodnight."

—

Hotch pulled up to Jessica's house around eight the next morning, having had left Emily a note that he'd gone out for a bit and had taken Charlotte with him since she'd already been awake. He figured Emily and the boys could use some extra sleep (so could he, really, after a night of thinking, tossing, and turning, but he was on a mission), so he'd been quiet leaving.

As he remembered she always did, Jessica was donning her bathrobe and slippers when she answered the door. She was an early riser, but most Saturdays, she spent half the day lounging around in her pajamas. "Aaron," she said simply, with a hint of surprise.

"Hey. Mind if I come in?" Jessica held the door open for him and the baby.

"I didn't know you were stopping by."

"Sorry, I guess I should have called." Hotch followed Jessica into the living room and set down the car seat.

"It's okay. What's going on?" Jessica curled up in a chair opposite Hotch and ran her finger around the rim of her coffee mug.

"We need to talk about the other night."

Jessica pursed her lips and looked at Hotch expectantly.

"First, I need to say something that I should have said then. Or, _do_ something I should have _done_ then. And that's to stand up for Emily. The things you said about her were rude and completely out of line, and you know that." Hotch started out a little rocky, but by the time he finished saying this, his voice was stern, solid. Jessica looked quite ashamed of herself, but didn't offer up anything verbally. "I don't know if you believed what you were saying, or if you were just angry and wanted to take it out on someone who didn't deserve it, but Emily is not trying to trick me into changing the will by offering to sleep with me. Not overtly, and not covertly. There are reasons she can't be with me that are absolutely none of your business. This situation with Jack has no impact on my relationship with Emily. When you insinuated that she was selling herself like that, it really hurt her feelings, but I'm not just going to blame you, because what hurt her even more was the fact that I just sat there and let you say those things. She heard the entire one-sided conversation from upstairs."

"So you've defended her honor now. Is that all you came here for?"

Hotch scowled. "You have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Aaron, please. It's obvious she sent you over here to get an apology out of me. I don't give them out when they're asked for."

"Actually, she didn't." This answer seemed to put Jessica in her place a bit. "Are you done accusing her of things you _know_ she hasn't done? Can we move on now?"

"Move on to where?"

"We need to talk about Jack."

"Here we go again. What now?"

Hotch had planned on trying to soften the blow somehow, to lead carefully into the subject, but Jessica's attitude wasn't conducive to that sort of conversation. "Jessica, I'm changing the will."

Hotch knew the Brooks family angry face. He knew it well. Haley had shared it with him more times than he cared to count. But Jessica's face brought angry to a completely new dimension. "You're _what_?" she shouted.

Charlotte started to fuss at the loud noise, so he took a minute to get her out and onto his lap to quiet her down. Jessica's furious reaction only made Hotch want to get this discussion over more quickly. Twelve hours ago he wasn't sure exactly how things would go down, but all it had taken to change his mind for good, finally, was hearing that Jack had chosen to bunk up with Henry instead of Emily in the middle of the night. On one hand, he wanted to kick himself for not seeing sooner that there was only one way to handle this situation. On the other hand, he was glad it hadn't taken any longer.

"Jack has a brother and a sister now. I don't care how you see them, but he sees them as siblings. That's already apparent. Like Emily said—"

"You know, Aaron, I don't know who's worse. Her, for being a puppet master, or you, for being the goddamned puppet."

"If _you_ talk about her one more time, then I'm gone. No further explanation. But I _want_ to give you an explanation. Because despite your behavior throughout this whole situation, I think you deserve to know why I'm changing the will. But if you'd rather not hear about it, then by all means…"

Jessica huffed and set her coffee down. Her cheeks reddened and her eyes glinted.

"Can I go on?" Hotch asked calmly. Jessica nodded and batted her eyes, obviously trying to keep some tears at bay. "Thank you. I need you to know that I'm not doing this to hurt you. On the contrary. I know it hurts and I wish there were a better solution that could spare you and your feelings. I can't begin to say how grateful I am for you, especially since Haley passed, and how much you mean to me, even if I don't show it very often. As it turns out I'm generally pretty terrible at letting people know how much they mean to me. I take people for granted quite frequently. And I'm sorry for that. But…I've thought about it a lot—all night, actually—and as hard as it is to put Emily in front of you, it's the best choice for Jack." He paused when Jessica began to nod resignedly. "If there were any other way to handle this, then I would go that way. But if I die, I can't let Jack get separated from his family. I know you don't see us as a family, but we live under the same roof and we love each other. And that's all that really matters."

"How am I suddenly not his family?" Jessica squeaked.

"Immediate family, I should say. You're still every bit as part of his family as you ever were. And you can be as big of a part of this new family as you want, still. You're welcome over absolutely any time. Maybe I didn't do a very good job of making that clear, but this doesn't need to be a 'you get Jack every Friday night' situation. Any time you want to come see him, we would love that, and so would he. But he needs to be with Henry and Charlotte. Just…imagine what your life would have been like without Haley. Jack has the opportunity to form those kinds of bonds that can last a lifetime. Imagine if someone had split up you and Haley when you were children. I know your time was cut short, but what if it had been cut shorter?"

"You're not being fair," Jessica said, tears running freely down her cheeks now.

"I'm only trying to make you see that this solution is what's best for Jack. I'm not trying to hurt you."

"That doesn't make it hurt less. And it doesn't make me any less angry with you."

Hotch's shut his eyes and counted to ten in his head before he spoke again. "I wasn't a family lawyer, so I don't trust myself with these things, but when I meet with my attorney, I will make sure that my will is written in a way that allows you to see Jack as much as you want. Not that I believe Emily would try to prevent you from seeing him, but I just want you to know that nobody is trying to take him away from you. It's really just a matter of where he lives. You're still his aunt. He still loves you."

"What if it had been someone other than Emily?" Jessica asked distantly.

Hotch was tempted to be a man of his word and leave at Jessica's mention of Emily, but at least she wasn't mentioning Emily in a nasty tone.

"What if it had been another friend, someone you weren't attracted to? Would this be different?"

"Maybe. But not because I'm doing this for Emily, in hopes of getting with her. But because she cares enough about Jack to make me see what's important for him. Apart from you, I don't know anyone who loves Jack enough to stir up all this trouble for the sake of keeping him happy."

"You mean for the sake of keeping herself happy."

Without another word, Hotch got the baby ready to go again, ignored her shrill cries from being put back down, picked up the car seat, and headed for the front door.

"Once you realize how right I am, come talk to me."

Hotch turned sharply on his heel. "You know what Emily says about you behind your back, Jessica?"

"I don't know, that I'm an out of control bitch?"

"No. She says next to nothing. She states the facts—that you haven't come over to see Jack, that you don't seem to like her, that you accused her of things that weren't true—and that's it. She certainly hasn't said anything to your face to deserve having these things said about her. And she hasn't said anything deserving of this behind your back. Any problems you have with Emily are _your_ problems. They're based on _your_ insecurities and _your_ closed-mindedness. If you came over just to see Jack once in a while, then maybe you'd be able to see Emily as someone other than the enemy." With that, Hotch was out the door.

—

"Hey," Emily called when Hotch walked through the front door. The boys were still sleeping, so it was just her, a cup of coffee, and a book on the couch.

"Hey," he replied, joining her in the living room with Charlotte on his chest. Emily smiled at the baby and held her arms out for her, so Hotch handed her over.

"Where were you off to?" she asked casually.

"Jessica's." Hotch plopped down in the recliner and rubbed his forehead.

"Oh."

"I'm meeting with my attorney Monday after work. I'm changing my will."

Emily sat up straight and waited for Hotch to look at her. "How did Jessica take it?" She wanted to be happy that she and Hotch finally agreed, wanted to be happy that Jack's future would finally be secure, but all she could feel was guilt when Hotch shook his head.

"Not well. But that's not your fault," he said instantly when Emily sighed. "She's very set in her ways. Whether or not she comes around is up to her."

"Why does the best thing for the kids have to be the worst thing for someone else?" Emily asked solemnly.

"Emily…" Hotch transferred over to the couch and sat down next to her. "It's Jessica that's making this the worst thing for her. Like you said, she's the one who distanced herself. I told her again that she's welcome over anytime, and if she chooses to keep at a distance, then I don't think there's anything we can do about it."

"I guess."

"I'm sorry that I dragged your feelings into this the other night. I know this wasn't about you winning Jack or anything like that. I never truly thought that about you."

The faintest of smiles crossed Emily's lips and she nodded at Hotch. "I know."

"And I'm sorry I didn't stand up for you. I know it's probably too little, too late, but I told Jessica off for it this morning." Hotch felt selfish for adding this in, knowing that he wanted Emily's forgiveness on this matter, but also knowing he could have found a more subtle way to look for it.

"Thank you." Emily slipped her free arm around Hotch and rested her cheek on his shoulder.

"I should have done it earlier, when it happened. I'm sorry."

"Aaron, it's fine. That was the least of my worries. But thank you for defending me. That means a lot." Emily withheld a sigh at the feeling of two strong arms closing in on her, two hands firmly planting themselves on her back.

"I'm in this a hundred percent. I promise. Are we okay?" Hotch asked.

Emily chuckled, tears of relief stinging her eyes. "Yeah, I think we are."

"Are you serious this time, or are you going to ruin another perfectly good steak dinner?" he joked.

Emily punched the side of her fist into Hotch's back and laughed. "Not funny."

"Then why are you laughing?"

Emily groaned and pulled away. "Okay, it was funny. Next time I plan on ruining dinner, I'll make sure we're going somewhere cheaper."

"Hey," Hotch said with sudden gentleness, "ruin any dinner you want to. Punch me in the face if that's what it takes." His voice had lowered to a whisper and he pressed his lips against Emily's forehead. "Thank you for putting up with me."

"And you me. Speaking of putting up with me," Emily said, hoping she wasn't changing subjects too quickly, "I think maybe I want to try Will and JJ's church again tomorrow."

"You sure?" Hotch turned his face so that his cheek rested against Emily's forehead. His arms pulled her closer again and she nodded against his chest. She worried briefly that the baby wouldn't like being so closed in, but she raised no objection.

"Yeah. I have a brighter outlook now. I should take advantage of it. And I can't say I'm in this a hundred percent too if I don't try a little harder."

"I don't doubt you a bit, you know," Hotch said.

"Maybe so, but I do. A lot. And can I just say that this has been the longest week of my life?"

"It's been a roller coaster, hasn't it?"

"Yes, and I know I was a big contributor, but I'm ready for it to be over now."

His lips found her forehead again. "I think we can manage that."

**A/N: Reviews are love!  
**


	58. Just Right

Hotch sat on top of the closed toilet seat in Emily's and the boys' bathroom, fully dressed and ready to leave for church. Henry, sitting quietly on his potty chair on the floor, was far from ready. He was still crusty-eyed and had some serious bed head, but he had insisted that "Daddy" watch while he tried his best to go after breakfast. Breakfast had been half an hour ago.

"You just about done?" Hotch asked with a warm smile. Henry didn't understand Hotch's playful frowns as well as Jack did, so he tried to be straightforward with his facial expressions.

"No!"

"Okay, okay," Hotch murmured. He hadn't heard a drop since Henry had sat down. This wasn't atypical for Henry, and normally, if Henry wanted a witness, Hotch or Emily would stay until he was done or until he gave up. They didn't want to discourage him from trying. However, Hotch knew Emily was scrambling to get herself ready for church, and as a result of Hotch being tied down in the bathroom, she had to get Jack and Charlotte ready as well.

"Aaron, is Henry ready yet?" she called frantically from the boys' bedroom. "Jack, you can't keep un-tucking your shirt."

"I don't wanna go to church," Jack whined before Hotch could answer Emily. Hotch grinned and listened in instead of letting Emily know where he was and that Henry wasn't ready yet.

"Too bad, we're going," Emily said. "Where are you?" Her voice faded, indicated she was looking for Hotch in his bedroom.

"In your bathroom."

Emily sighed and took Jack by the hand to where Hotch and Henry were. She too was ready to go, and crouched down to the ground to get Jack ready (again) as well.

"Is he still trying to go?" she asked Hotch, only having come to the doorway of the bathroom so she could talk to Hotch without yelling, not so she could look. But when she did happen to glance up from tucking an unhappy Jack's shirt back in for him, her taut face softened and she pushed her bottom lip out. "I can't even be mad that he's not ready to go yet. This is just too cute."

Hotch raised a half-amused eyebrow and tapped one foot on the tile floor.

"Henry, buddy," he warned, "we need to get you ready. Want to try again when we get home?"

"No!" Henry shouted again, shaking his dirty blonde hair every which way.

"He needs a haircut," Emily remarked. "Be right back."

"Where are you going? Where's the baby?"

Emily didn't answer, but returned a minute later with the camera. "She, unlike you two, is ready and waiting, and so is Jack now," Emily said, looking for the power button on the camera.

"To be fair, I'm ready, too," Hotch noted.

"Hey Henry," Emily said in a high-pitched voice. "Can you smile and look at the camera?" Henry bared his teeth in an enthusiastic smile. "You, too," Emily hissed at Hotch.

Knowing resistance was futile, Hotch grinned with his chin in his hand.

"I can't wait to show this to all his girlfriends," Emily said excitedly after taking the photograph.

"Did you hear that, Henry? The longer you sit on the potty, the more embarrassed you're going to be in about thirteen years."

"Let's shoot for at least fifteen," Emily said. "But don't discourage him. Let's just…wait for one little drip." She sighed and managed to sit down in her form-fitted black dress and heels. Jack plopped down beside her and hung all over her. All eyes were on Henry, whose little legs swung to and fro while he did absolutely nothing.

_Drip_.

"Good job!" Emily said with a giant smile plastered over her face. She clapped and scrambled to her feet. "Okay, we need to be out of here in three minutes," she said to Hotch, dropping a kiss on Henry's head and letting Hotch take it from there.

—

"It's seriously Palm Sunday already?" Emily whispered to Hotch as they sat down in a pew, free of all three children. "Did they mention Lent at all last week? Did I miss it?"

"If they did, I missed it too," Hotch admitted.

"We're the worst Catholics ever."

"There's the Catholic guilt for you," Hotch said with a smirk.

"At least it's not Easter. I look like I'm going to a funeral."

Hotch chuckled. "Not to draw attention to it, but just out of curiosity, how are you feeling?"

Emily shot Hotch a quick inquiring look. "Oh, that," she said, clasping her hands over her top knee after crossing her legs. "Fine."

"You sure?"

Emily smiled genuinely. "Yes."

"You'll let me know if you're not?"

Emily nodded.

—

"How about we go out to lunch?" Hotch suggested to Emily once the back doors of the vehicle were shut, the kids packed inside.

"We haven't been out to eat with all three of them," Emily said warily. "Unless you count a couple of months ago when I stopped at a drive-through with them."

"We haven't been out to eat _at all_ except for the other night and lunch on Wednesday," Hotch corrected. "But there's a first time for everything."

"What's the occasion? We should be careful with how much we spend."

"What's with the sudden fiscal responsibility?" Hotch teased as they climbed in as well.

"I'm just trying to avoid taking three kids out to lunch on a Sunday afternoon."

Hotch got his way, and the five of them were seated at a place that was family friendly enough to have paper place mats and crayons for the boys.

"I can't believe you've never been here," Hotch said in wonderment to Emily. "It's only five minutes away from your old place."

"I don't frequent places with paper place mats and crayons."

"Welcome to parenthood."

"Mommy, I gotta go potty," Henry informed Emily. Hotch didn't say anything about Emily's immediate blushing. It was the first time Henry had used "mommy" on her. Apparently, he'd finally heard Jack say it enough times.

"Okay, let's try this again." Emily scooted out of their booth and Hotch handed Henry, who sat next to him in a booster seat, but on the inside of the booth, over to her.

"What do you want for lunch?" Hotch asked Jack. "Grilled cheese?"

Jack nodded, coloring in a dinosaur on his place mat. "Do you think Charlotte would like a grilled cheese, too?"

Jack giggled and looked up at his dad.

"What?" Hotch asked, feigning obliviousness.

"She can't have a grilled cheese, Daddy."

"How come?"

"She's a baby!"

"Oh, I see. You know what, you're right. What should we feed her?"

"A bottle."

"Good thinking." Hotch correctly anticipated a hungry baby and asked for some hot water along with their food.

"Tell Daddy what you did, Henry," Emily said as she handed him back to Hotch ten minutes later.

"I went potty," Henry said proudly.

"_Really?_ Wow! I say just for that, we get dessert." Emily gave Hotch a reproachful look. "What? It's on me," Hotch said.

"No, it's not. We're splitting."

"No, we're not."

"You bought dinner the other night."

"So? I took you out. It was my idea. I paid."

Emily rolled her eyes only somewhat playfully. "If that's your mentality, then let's think of this as me taking the family out, and I'll pay."

"This was my idea."

"Well, it's my turn. You can't pay for everything."

"Do we need a joint checking account?" Hotch asked jokingly.

"No, we just need to eat at home, where everything's already bought and paid for and we don't have to argue who gets to pay for lunch."

"You started it." He sensed that Emily had run out of amusement. "You okay? Church was good, right?" he asked, remembering that little pitchers had big ears.

"Yeah, church was fine," Emily said with a reassuring smile. "I just really would like to pay for lunch, or at least split."

"We can split if it really bothers you. I guess we'll have to figure out some sort of system for the future. Taking turns or something. I can guarantee you our waitress is going to give us an odd look when we ask to split the check."

"Oh, I'm fine with weird looks. I got plenty of them when I had to stand outside the bathroom stall—because suddenly someone did not want an audience—and explain to him why we had to go to the ladies' room."

"Because you're a lady," Hotch said simply. "Right, Henry?"

"I wish I would have thought of that," Emily said, rolling her eyes. Hotch obviously took this for sarcasm. "No, I'm serious. I didn't think of that. I started off way too complicated, and then he kept asking, 'Why? Why? Why?' I got _this_ close to a 'birds and the bees' talk with a two-year-old."

—

Hotch waited until the kids were in bed, exhausted after running around the back yard all afternoon, before trying to get an intelligent conversation in with Emily. "I feel like we need a debriefing at the end of every day just to stay sane," he said as they both made themselves comfortable on the couch.

"That might not be a bad idea."

"First on the agenda, then. Please don't let the money thing bother you so much."

Emily sighed. "I want things to be fair, that's all," she said, giving him an apologetic look. "I didn't mean to be bitchy about it."

"You weren't bitchy. But things don't have to be equal for them to be fair. If we try to keep everything equal, we're going to go crazy. I mean, we run out of diapers in the middle of the week and one of us stops at the store. Do we dig out a receipt and demand half from the other person? No, we just assume that eventually, everything will even out."

"You're right."

"Come again?" Hotch said, cupping his ear.

"I said, 'You're right.' Go on and gloat."

"Nah, I'll just tuck it away and save it for later. Second on the agenda— was church really okay?"

"Yeah, actually, it was. I think maybe last week was first-time-in-a-long-time jitters. Or maybe I went in this week with more of a family-oriented mindset, not thinking just about what it was like for me to be there. I think that helped."

"Good. But my offer still stands. Be honest and let me know if it starts feeling off again."

"Thank you. Anything else on the agenda?"

Hotch looked up at the ceiling. "I do have one thing. But it's not open to discussion. It's just a comment."

"Listening," Emily said.

"Today felt just right."

**A/N: Please leave a review!  
**


	59. Trigger

"We have a tea bag situation," Emily said along with Charlotte Goldenblatt. She lay on her side on the couch, a bowl of popcorn on the floor in front of her while she watched Sex and the City. She'd gotten to the television before Hotch and didn't feel like watching more Seinfeld. Hotch cocked a questioning eyebrow Emily's way and she broke out into a smile. "Just breathe through your nose. Oh God, I love Charlotte."

"Charlotte?"

"Oh, different Charlotte. Sex and the City, come on. Are you not watching the same show I'm watching?" she asked as Hotch took a seat in the recliner with a beer.

"Watching, but trying not to listen. Too much estrogen. What's this about breathing through your nose?"

Emily's eyes slowly widened and she quickly paused the show. "Tea bagging." Hotch stared at her blankly to convey that this meant absolutely nothing to him. "You're joking, right?"

"Making tea?"

Emily's whole body shook with silent laughter. "Sorry. I forgot what a prude you are."

"I'm not a prude. But I'm assuming tea bagging is something you wouldn't do in front of children."

"It's, uh…how do I explain this while still remaining lady-like? I don't think I can."

"Now this I want to hear," Hotch said, his lip twitching.

Emily blushed and said, "It's when you put a guy's balls in your mouth. Well, technically, it doesn't have to be consensual. I think guys do it to their friends when they fall asleep drunk, for hazing and stuff like that. But, yeah, that's tea bagging. Because they hang."

"I…"

"Feel enlightened?" Emily tried.

"…Can't believe I'm raising kids with you."

"I'll ignore that comment. Is it weird that I said 'balls'? The word 'testicles' kind of weirds me out."

"We dealt with sexual crimes day in and day out, and the word '_testicles'_ weirds you out?"

Emily shrugged. "You don't get weirded out by anything?"

"Maybe by you," he said with a fleeting grin. "It's good that you can joke around about those kinds of things, considering, you know…" he said with a poignantly raised eyebrow.

Emily shrugged. "Talking about it or thinking about it is one thing. I'm pretty sure doing it is another thing entirely." She gave Hotch an apologetic look, as if she could convey in one simple sentence why she couldn't be with him. She knew he knew, but she didn't know if she could say it enough times, didn't know if he'd ever really understand. She didn't expect a reaction from him in regards to the nature of their relationship, and she didn't get one. But he understood perfectly.

"I uh… need to call my brother. Mind if I do that in here or do you want me to take it outside?" he asked. He and Emily had made a point of pestering each other in good humor about calling their family members about meeting up.

"As long as you don't mind me watching this." Emily was upset with herself for ruining the mood. Witty banter had turned into mind games. Warm and friendly had turned into cool and uncertain. And now her mind was suddenly reeling to familiar but unhappy places.

"I'll take it outside, then," Hotch decided. "I'd just like the record to show that I called my brother before you called your parents."

"I haven't called my parents." Emily's own voice sounded strange to her. Not strange in a way she didn't know, though. Different. Like she was trying to talk to someone underwater. She hated that she knew it all too well

"Exactly. You know, now might be a good time," Hotch said playfully, oblivious to the memories Emily was about to relive against her will. Once he was outside, he took a moment to reflect on how nice and peaceful the last week had been, sitting out on one of the porch chairs with the last bit of Saturday sunlight, before finally dialing his brother.

"Yeah," Sean answered.

"Sean, it's Aaron."

"Aaron!" If Hotch weren't mistaken, his brother almost sounded excited to hear from him. "How's it goin'? We haven't talked in ages."

Hotch sighed. "I know. Before I tell you how it's going for me, why don't you tell me what's going on in your life?"

"Why me first?"

"Because your story is probably shorter, if you're lucky," Hotch said with a grin.

"Seriously, nothing's going on here."

"Well, you _did_ move back home. You did remember that there was nothing there when you did that, right?"

Sean chuckled. "Yeah, not my smartest move."

"What're you doing for work?"

"I opened up a little restaurant."

"_At home_?"

"Yup."

"That counts as news, you know," Hotch said.

"I honestly couldn't remember if I'd already told you. What about you? Still working at the Bureau?"

"No, actually. I took early retirement and moved over to the ATF instead. I'm home before six almost every night now."

"That must be nice. Spending more time with Jack?"

"A lot more. And…well, this is where the bigger news comes in. A couple months ago, a friend of mine and her husband died in a car accident—"

"Man, I'm sorry."

"Thank you, but, that's…not why I'm telling you this. They left behind two children, and I'm the godfather to one of them, their baby girl. Another friend of mine is her godmother. And…well, our friends basically left both children to us."

"Whoa. What're you trying to say? You've got two extra kids now?" Sean didn't sound the least bit judgmental, just surprised.

"Yes, a two-year-old boy and a three-month-old girl."

"And you and your other friend…Do you live together?"

"Yes. She moved in with me."

"Wow, just you and Jack, and then add three people, just like that, huh?"

"Yeah, just like that."

"Is this…live-in friend…one of the girls I saw at your office a few years back?"

"Nope. She did work for the B.A.U., but she hadn't started there yet. You haven't met her."

"She single?"

Hotch laughed and sat back in the porch chair, knowing this question would come up sooner or later. "Emily? Yeah, she's single. I don't know how this living arrangement would work if she were with s omebody."

"So, are you guys—"

"No. We're just friends."

"You sound totally okay with that," Sean remarked. When Hotch thought about it, he realized he _had_ sounded at peace in the way he'd said it. He hadn't aimed to sound disappointed, but he hadn't aimed to sound so content, either. "She not your type?"

"It's a little more complicated than that, Sean," Hotch said, trying not to sound condescending. "We're very good friends, and that really works well for us."

"Whatever, man," Sean said, laughing. "So three kids, huh? It's workin' out?"

"Yeah, it is." Hotch found himself with a seemingly permanent grin on his face. "I was actually thinking that it would be nice if you came to see Jack and meet everyone else. You're not too far away."

Then came the sigh Hotch had been waiting for in the back of his mind. "Aaron, I wish I could, but I'm really busy—"

"Running a restaurant in Sweetbriar? You can't leave it to someone else for just a day or two? It would mean a lot to me and it would mean a lot to Jack. And Emily would really like to meet you."

"A—"

"Any day you want. We were hoping to have a big dinner—nothing fancy, but just to ease the tension a little. Emily's got family that just found out—"

"You want me to come to some crazy family dinner where someone's gonna end up crying and someone else is gonna burn down the house?"

"It won't be that bad."

"So you're admitting it'll be bad."

Hotch took a deep breath. "You're my brother. For brothers, we really don't ask a lot of one another. I haven't seen you in years. Jack hardly even knows you exist. Just come out for one day. You're welcome to stay the night after dinner if you like, but you can leave right after dinner if you prefer. I'd just like you to show your face and say hello."

"Why can't I do that without a big event?"

"Because you're not going to if I don't set a date." Hotch had been thinking it but trying to avoid saying it. "I need you to commit. Like I said, we can do whatever day works best for you."

"Is Jessica gonna be there?"

"I don't know. We'll invite her, but she isn't really happy with the way things are going right now. She may or may not come. Just—Sean, this would really mean a lot. I really want Jack to get to know you. You don't have to move here, but just show your face. And this is my family now. Not just Jack, but Emily and the two little ones, too."

"Why the dinner?"

"Because it gets everyone acquainted with the situation all at once."

"So it cuts down on the hassle for _you_ guys."

Hotch couldn't help but chuckle. "Well…yes. Listen, what if we had you cook? You'd get the best deal out of anyone. Minimal socializing at dinner. Spend the day with us, then once everyone else comes over, disappear into the kitchen. It's just a day."

"Whenever I want?"

"Whenever you want."

"Tomorrow."

"Not funny."

"Fine. I can't do weekends. Mondays and Tuesdays are my slow days."

"I'll talk with Emily and we'll set a date, then."

—

"I thought you were watching your show," Hotch said when he got back inside and saw Seinfeld playing instead.

"I thought you were talking to your brother."

"I did. He said he can come on a Monday or Tuesday. He opened up a restaurant so he can't do weekends. Do you think your parents can do next Monday or Tuesday?"

"Probably," she said dully.

Hotch took a seat in the recliner and took another swig of his beer. "I take it you were not on the phone with your parents while I was outside."

"Ding ding ding."

"Something the matter? I really don't care what we watch, you know. You can turn it back." Hotch couldn't see Emily's face anymore, as she had switched to lay across the couch the other way now.

"It's okay."

"Emily, what's wrong?"

Hotch didn't get an answer for a long moment, but he knew Emily wasn't ignoring him, just figuring out what to say. "The tea bagging bit was a bad idea, that's all."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't really think about what happened in L.A. very often. But sometimes…there are triggers. And I don't even see them coming. I've never had a problem joking around about sex. That's never been a trigger."

"But it was tonight?"

"I guess." Emily's voice sounded calm and clear. "Maybe it's the time of year. It's April. But last April and the one before, this didn't happen. Anyway, now I can't shut my brain off, not that part, anyway. I feel like it's actually happening all over again. It's playing like a tape in my head. That's how my flashbacks happen. I just…relive it…not all of it, just highlights, but usually the same moments, in the same order, you know..." Emily tried to stave off the feeling of blood rushing to her head.

"Is there anything I can do?" Hotch leaned forward to get a view of Emily's face. He could only see her forehead and the top of her nose. He knew she'd purposely positioned herself that way. She didn't want to make eye contact. And she had stayed lying down so he wouldn't have room to come sit with her. Of course she wouldn't want to be touched right now. His stomach tied itself into a knot and a cold sweat issued from his palms. It had been a while since he'd pictured her captors' faces, imagined what on earth they could have done to her. It was all coming back to him. He felt the urge to react, to throw something, to yell, even at Emily, but she needed anything but that right now.

"Talking is helping. Not about _it_, but…just the act of talking is distracting me, so if we could keep doing that…" Hotch could see her fisting her trembling hand. But he couldn't hear her heart pounding faster and faster, harder and harder.

"Are you feeling okay, physically? Can I get you anything?"

"I'm okay. I just need a distraction, really. I just need to let it play in the background until it's over. Then it'll go away and I'll be just fine."

Hotch hadn't been around for an episode before. His face heated and his eyes welled with tears for her, wondering how many times in the past three years she'd had to experience these flashbacks to know exactly how they worked. "Okay. Uh, the kids have an Easter egg hunt after church tomorrow, and it's actually supposed to be nice out."

"Good. What're you gonna wear to church?"

"Not sure what I have clean right now. Want me to wear pink?"

Emily laughed softly. "Do you even own a pink shirt?"

"Actually, I think I do." Charlotte's fusses sounded from the baby monitor. "I knew we put her down too early. Will you be okay for a minute while I go get her?"

"Yeah." While Hotch rushed upstairs, Emily sat up and rubbed her forehead firmly with the heels of her hands, as if she could push the memories out somewhere, somehow. When he came downstairs with a hungry baby, he asked with his eyes if she would be okay while he fixed a bottle. She nodded and buried her face in her hands the second he was behind her.

_The empty, windowless, ten-by-ten room. The concrete floor. The pile of her clothing, left there for her to put back on, if she wanted to bother with them this time, while she waited for them to come back to her again._ These were the least traumatizing thoughts going through her mind right now. She wondered if there would actually ever come a day when she would divulge further details to anyone but a trained professional. Maybe, someday, Hotch would break her down, but she still couldn't understand why anyone would actually want to know the details of this sort of thing happening to a friend. It made no sense to her whatsoever. She hadn't asked for the exact details on what had killed Will and JJ in their car accident—broken necks, head trauma—because she didn't want to know those sorts of things. Perhaps she fell into some category, and Hotch into another. Thankfully, when he returned to the living room, he didn't ask her for details.

"Want to feed her?" Hotch offered.

"Hmm?" Emily looked up and saw Hotch standing in front of her, Charlotte protesting against the wait. "Oh. Yeah…Thanks." She held out her still shaky arms and pulled Charlotte to her chest. She held a hand out blindly for the bottle, which Hotch handed over. Once Emily was situated and the baby was eating and quiet, Hotch took a chance and sat down next to Emily, leaving a respectable distance between them.

"Has she smiled at you yet? You know, besides the random staring-around-the-room kind of smiles?" Hotch asked offhandedly, clasping his hands between his knees and keeping an eye on his two favorite girls.

Emily suddenly felt silly for asking Hotch to distract her with conversation. Feeding the baby seemed to be working well, too. But he brought up a good question.

"No, not yet. Why, has she smiled for you?"

"Nope. Maybe tonight. You never know."

Snippets of three years ago still lashed out into Emily's awareness, but with diminishing frequency now. Otherwise, her memories faded into the background—at least, that was how she would have described it to someone else. "Thank you," she said, glancing up at Hotch. "I know this came completely out of nowhere. I'm sorry."

"I would never expect you to have any kind of control over this. It happens. And I'm glad I know how to help you deal with it now. I don't want to hear you apologizing for it."

Emily nodded and sighed, leaning back into the couch and putting her feet up on the coffee table.

"Is it going away?" Hotch asked.

"It'll be over in a few minutes," Emily said.

"In the meantime, then, want an Easter egg?"

Emily laughed quietly. "I think I had about five too many today. I'm holding out for eating all their candy while they're sleeping tomorrow night. Where did you hide their baskets, by the way?"

"Jack's is in the front closet and Henry's is under my bed. Well, they both have the same stuff. Maybe I should leave the door cracked in case Jack finds the one under my bed, or hide the second one somewhere else. Henry can't open the closet door."

"Good plan. Who on earth decided that the resurrection of Jesus Christ had anything to do with a creepy bunny hiding plastic eggs filled with candy?"

"Candy companies, I guess," Hotch said with a smirk.

"It's way worse than the Santa thing. At least at Christmas you can teach kids lessons about giving instead of receiving—"

"Trust me, they don't learn that," Hotch interjected. "It's a nice sentiment, but it's going to be a while before any of these three are more excited about giving a gift than getting one."

"So cynical."

"I'll be the cynic. You can be the idealist. How's that?"

"Isn't it usually the other way around?"

Hotch shrugged. "We're pretty good at taking turns."

Emily smiled and closed her eyes, enjoying the peace that the blackness provided. Then she realized what had happened. "It's over."

"What is? The flashback?"

Emily nodded and sighed in relief as her heartrate slowly returned to normal and her hands stopped shaking. "Yeah. Thank you, again. Usually I just have to sit through them and put up with them until they stop."

"When was the last time you had one?"

Emily hummed in thought. "Right after this past Christmas, I think."

Hotch felt a lump form in his throat, knowing that he'd seen Emily for a brief moment at JJ's Christmas party. If he would have taken JJ's advice then, and explained to Emily why he'd left, told her that he loved her, she might not have had to go through that, at least not alone. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

Emily offered Hotch a small, consoling smile. "We're way past that, okay? I mean it when I say you're forgiven. That isn't why I made the choice I made. I'm not punishing you."

"I know. I know why you made the choice you made, and especially after tonight, I think I fully understand why."

"Did you not understand before tonight? I'm sorry, I should have done a better job explaining. I didn't mean to leave you wondering."

"No, it's not your fault. I think that before, I just accepted it. And I'm honestly really happy with the way things are going. But knowing that you have these flashbacks for no specific reason…I would worry too about getting into a relationship. I don't _want_ you to worry, of course, but I understand why you do. So if I ever seem like I'm holding your decision over your head, tell me I'm a jackass, okay?"

Emily's shoulders shook with a little laugh. "I'm glad you're happy with what we have."

Hotch reflected silently on their situation while the baby finished eating. Of course he was happy. Hopefully the past week hadn't been a fluke, because if they could keep things the way they were going, he wouldn't have any legitimate reason to complain about his life. Emily was right there next to him every single day, listening to him, making him laugh, trusting him with her problems, and allowing him to trust her right back. It wasn't her fault that she couldn't give him more than that. He was finally realizing that he'd never be capable of resenting her for it, not even if everyone else in the world told him he should.

As she always did when she fed the baby with Hotch in the room, Emily handed the baby over to him for burping. It was a skill she still hadn't mastered, and had pretty much given up on trying while Hotch was around. She held her hands out again for Charlotte the second Hotch got a good burp out of her. "Can you smile for me?" she asked, laying the baby in her lap, the baby's head on her knees. "Please?" She offered Charlotte both her index fingers and she latched on.

Emily sighed and looked at Hotch. "I guess when she's ready."

A smile lit up Hotch's face and he cocked his head back toward the baby, who was looking right up at Emily, waiting for eye contact, with an open-mouthed smile. Emily looked just in time to see and returned the smile while her heart beat against her chest; Charlotte's smile faded away within a few seconds.

Emily glanced over at Hotch once again, smiling as well. "I don't think I'll stop smiling until I fall asleep tonight."

"Tell me about it," Hotch said.

"Do you think she can just stay this way forever? No talking back, no boys, no driving?"

"That would be a lot of diapers, don't you think?"

**A/N: Please leave a review! I'd like to know your thoughts after this chapter. **


	60. Easter

"Good morning."

Emily stepped away from her closet, where she'd been trying to find something to wear. Charlotte lay awake on the middle of Emily's bed, still in her pajamas and kicking her feet. Hotch now stood in her doorway, a mint green tie hanging untied around his neck.

"Good morning," Emily said back to Hotch. "You look…springy."

Hotch smirked. "Did you sleep all right?"

"I did," Emily sighed. "Thank you, again. I know it was kind of weird, just making you sit there and talk to me like that, but it really helped."

"Of course. Even if it's the middle of the night and I'm asleep, if that happens again, I hope you'll come and wake me."

Emily closed her eyes and laughed under her breath. "I sound like a kid having nightmares."

"Why are kids allowed to be scared of nightmares but we're not?" Hotch asked matter-of-factly.

"Valid point, I guess. Anyway, which one?" she asked, ducking back into her closet and pulling out two dresses. One was whiter than the bathrobe she wore. The other was red.

"White is a little more…Easter-appropriate, I think," Hotch said.

"Yeah, you're right." Emily put the red dress away.

"I'm gonna go get the boys up so they can look for their baskets."

"Give me two minutes. I want to see."

Emily dressed Charlotte in the living room so she could watch the boys cross through back and forth in the search for their baskets. Jack, a veteran, immediately caught on that his basket could be on any floor of the house, so he hurried upstairs. Henry just ambled between the kitchen and the living room, not knowing to look inside of or behind things. After a few minutes, Hotch got up to help him find the basket he'd placed in the front closet. It only took Jack a few minutes beyond that to find his own basket under his father's bed and come downstairs with it on his arm, trailing green Easter grass behind him and already biting into a chocolate. Hotch thanked his lucky stars that the boys had found the right baskets and no trading was necessary.

"What'd the Easter bunny bring you?" Emily asked Henry, who sat on the floor in front of her, picking some toys and a little bit of candy out of his basket.

"Doggie." Henry held up a stuffed bear.

"That's a bear, sweetie. Can you say bear?"

"No, doggie!"

"Okay, okay, it's a doggie. Sheesh. Want me to unwrap a piece of candy for you?"

"Yah."

"I got more candy than Henry!" Jack shrieked, bouncing up and down with his basket and dropping several items from it.

"Hey," Hotch chided. "First, stop jumping like a maniac with candy in your mouth. Second, Henry can't have as much candy as you. He's too little. But you don't need to let him know, all right?"

Henry shook a blue plastic egg with an outstretched hand for Emily to take. As she opened it up for him, Hotch announced, "Eat as much as you can in three minutes, then it's time to get dressed."

"Yes, encourage binging. That won't get them sick, not at all."

—

The pile of plastic eggs at Emily's feet grew very little as Henry brought his scant findings to her. The grass was already lush and green, and the weather had more than cooperated, so every child in the parish flooded the lawn behind the church.

"You know, that's why we brought your basket, sweetie," she said as he brought another egg to her, his empty basket hanging on his arm. "Put the eggs in the basket so you don't have to keep coming back here."

"Trust me, we'll just be following him around picking them up off the ground if he tries to use the basket," Hotch said. "You seen Jack?"

"Here he comes," Emily said, pointing at Jack, whose visage became clearer as he neared them. He held his basket steady as he ran to his family.

"Look how many I got!" he said to his dad. Henry watched with curiosity as Jack struggled to open up an egg.

"Wow, nice job. Aren't you going to go find more?" Hotch asked. "I bet there are still a lot left."

"As of your next paycheck, I am no longer chipping in for dental coverage, just so you know," Emily said dryly. "Henry, want me to help you find some more?"

—

"I'll get those," Hotch said to Emily, walking into the kitchen with more dishes while she scrubbed at the pan from the ham they'd had for dinner.

"I'm fine," Emily said.

"You did most of the cooking. Let me clean up. The baby's awake. Go play with her."

"What, are you incapable of playing with the baby?" Emily said playfully.

"No, I just thought you might want to."

"Because I'm a woman." Emily tried to sound as offended as she could, but she was in too good a mood to pull it off.

"Seriously, move away from the sink," Hotch said, not buying any of Emily's act.

"Why are you being so…"

"Nice? Why are you acting so surprised?"

"I'm teasing. Maybe I will let you do this. I'm going to give my mother a call while I'm still in a good mood."

"Best of luck."

Emily wiped her hands dry and dialed her mother on her way into the living room. She took Charlotte out onto the porch with her while the phone rang.

"Ambassador Prentiss," her mother answered.

"It's your favorite daughter."

"Oh, Emily. Hello." Her mother's voice sounded completely devoid of emotion, which made it hard for Emily to gauge her reaction.

"Good thing you guessed right," Emily quipped. "Happy Easter."

"Happy Easter," her mother returned.

"How are you and Dad?"

"Well, and you?"

Emily hated the first few lines back and forth in a conversation with her mother. She always felt as if she were speaking with Strauss, or a cold customer service representative.

"Well. I was hoping we could talk really quickly."

"Why quickly?"

Emily took a breath and held it in as she got herself situated in a chair.

"Well, Aaron and I want to have our families over for dinner, give everyone a chance to get acquainted with the kids they don't already know, which, for you and Dad, would be all three."

"You don't want to talk about how you hid this from me for two months?"

"Why don't we talk about that in person?" Emily said, knowing full well that ducking out of a conversation with her mother right now was just stalling.

"Fine. When is this dinner?"

"Are you available Monday or Tuesday of next week?"

"Tuesday would work better."

"Great. We can't eat too late because of the kids, so can you be here around six?"

"Of course. Whom else will we be meeting?"

"Aaron's brother, Sean, and his sister-in-law, Jessica, possibly. Not sure about her."

"Well then. I suppose _since you don't want to talk right now_, I'll see you next Tuesday."

"See you then," Emily said, not taking her mother's expertly placed bait. She hung up and turned her attention to the baby, who watched her every move. "You're _so_ lucky I'm not my mother. Not yet, anyway," she said sardonically. "If you ever fall in love with a man and want to raise a friend's babies and his son with him but not marry him because you're crazy, I will support you every step of the way. I promise. Even though you'd be going against my initial advice, which was just not to bother with boys and pretend your friends' babies are yours. Guess I took that one a little too far. Not that I regret it." Emily realized she was rambling when Charlotte didn't blink for a remarkable amount of time, instead staring up at Emily with a look that Emily usually saved for Reid's fact-filled ten-second lectures. "We've already gone over the fact that I'm crazy, right?" Charlotte's tongue pushed out between her lips, which curled up at the corners in a smile. "You _know _I'm crazy. You were just waiting for me to say it, weren't you?"

"How'd it go?" Hotch asked when Emily returned to the kitchen. He was elbow deep in dish soap.

"Not terribly. She said Tuesday works. I told her we could talk in person. I didn't feel like adding drama to the day. I'd like to have one day where no one ends up hurt or crying or—" She stopped at the sound of Henry's shrill cry in the next room. She and Hotch shared worried glances. "I'll go check."

**A/N: Please leave a review, short or long!  
**


	61. Candy, Beer, and Little Indulgences

**April 2011 (Present Day)**

"What is it?" Emily asked, rushing into the living room after passing off the baby to Hotch, her heart pounding seemingly in her head. Hotch was hot on her heels, but she didn't know.

Henry screamed again and pointed at Jack, who held a plastic egg above Henry's head, just out of his reach.

"Jack!" She didn't shout, but came close. He immediately stopped what he was doing and handed the egg to Henry. "What was that all about? Is that Henry's?"

"Yeah," Jack said sheepishly down at the carpet.

"Then why would you take it from him and tease him like that?" Emily asked more calmly now. She sat on the couch and motioned for Jack to come over. Hotch watched on in silence. Henry tugged on Hotch's pants and held out the egg, which Hotch took from him and opened up quietly.

"I wanted it," Jack said to Emily.

"You know that's not how you get what you want. And you have your own candy."

"No, I don't."

"You had an entire basket full of candy this morning. You're telling me it's all gone?"

Jack nodded and pouted up at Emily.

"Nice try with the pout. Show me your basket." Jack stomped up to his room, not looking at his father, who still went unnoticed to Emily. He came back down with a basket full of empty chocolate and candy wrappers and handed it over to Emily.

"Did you eat this all by yourself?" she asked, aghast.

"Yeah."

"_When_?"

"After dinner."

"You're lucky you're not sick. You need to go say you're sorry to Henry. We'll talk about the candy in a minute. Go find him." Emily got up and turned to watch Jack exit the living room and jumped when she saw Hotch three feet away. "Holy—what are you doing there? You scared the—living daylights out of me," she murmured. Hotch chuckled and muttered an apology.

"Sorry, Henry," Jack said with only a trace of sincerity. "Daddy, I don't feel good."

"Well," Hotch said, crouching down after eying Emily, "that's because you ate all your candy at once. Where don't you feel good?"

"My tummy."

"Let's go lie in bed for a while."

"Can you carry me?"

"Nope, not when you act up like this. You knew you weren't allowed to have your basket up in your room. Come on." Hotch handed Charlotte back to Emily and followed Jack up the stairs.

"Whatchya got there?" Emily asked Henry, who tugged at the wrapper of a piece of chocolate. "Need some help?" Henry nodded and proffered the chocolate, then climbed up next to Emily, staring at his sister. "Here you go, but that's it for tonight. You know what, let's take it in the kitchen." Hotch found Emily there a few minutes later. "How did he get his basket?" Emily asked him. "We had them both up on the fridge." Henry's was still there.

"I gave Henry a piece after dinner, but Jack wanted to pick his own, so I handed him his basket and forgot all about it," Hotch explained.

Emily cast Hotch a tiny smirk. "You are _so _on puke duty."

"I know," Hotch said guiltily. "So much for a nice quiet day."

Emily shrugged. "Three kids within five years of each other? I think this is as nice and quiet as it's going to get."

Hotch's thick eyebrows twitched. "You have a point."

"Haven't you told me something to that effect before?"

"Yeah, but sometimes I need to be reminded."

**December 2007**

Hotch was finally feeling comfortable in his new space. Although he couldn't blame Haley for filing for a divorce, he did resent her a little for waiting until he felt a little like he had a home again. A week after being served his divorce papers (and practically being tucked into bed by Emily after he'd had a few too many drinks), he was still feeling the aftershock, still feeling like his little bachelor pad was rather empty, even though Jack was with him. The papers sat on top of the fridge where he couldn't see them.

"Daddy." Jack, just over two years old, tugged at his dad's pant leg. Hotch had his son for the weekend and was busy cooking an unhealthy but favorite dinner of macaroni and cheese for the two of them.

"Hey, buddy. Is your cartoon over?"

"Uh-huh."

Hotch squatted down and scooped Jack up into his arms. "Macaroni and cheese for dinner. Sound good?"

"Yah," Jack said with a smile, panting and clapping. Hotch gave him an amused look and kissed him on the temple.

"You're silly."

Two hours later, Jack was showing signs of sleepiness, one being crawling into his father's lap and burrowing his face into his chest. Hotch checked his watch and realized it was just about that time. He was in the middle of helping Jack (who didn't protest) into his pajamas when a knock sounded at the door. Knowing Emily would wait, he finished with Jack's pajamas and pulled back his covers. "Climb on in, buddy. I'll be right back." Emily had indeed waited for him. "Hey," he said when he opened up for her. "I was just putting Jack to bed. Make yourself at home."

Emily smiled and signaled to four feet below them, where Jack stood, staring up at Emily, a stranger to him.

"Oh, well, I guess you get to meet him after all," Hotch said with a chuckle. "He might be a little shy—" Hotch stopped mid-sentence when Jack approached Emily without fear. "Guess not."

"You must be Jack," she said sweetly, crouching and giving him a tiny wave. "My name is Emily."

"Can you say Emily?" Hotch asked Jack. He shook his head and rushed back to Hotch. "So much for not being shy. Let me finish tucking him in. Like I said, make yourself at home."

Emily gazed around the apartment whose contents she'd helped unpack. This was the first time she'd been over since dropping Hotch off a week ago, and _that_ had been her first time over since helping him move in. In the interim, it wasn't uncommon for them to grab a beer together after work. Hotch always initiated such outings, but today, Emily had finally worked up the nerve to suggest an outing herself before leaving the office. Hotch had informed her that he had Jack for the weekend, but had pitched the idea of her coming over around eight, once Jack was in bed. He'd seemed to regret phrasing it that way immediately after he'd finished asking, and Emily had sensed that. Though she'd accepted his invitation, she hadn't brought any alcohol with her, unsure of what kind of night Hotch was expecting. If he wanted a beer, she was sure he'd have some in stock, and she would offer to buy next time. But as close as they seemed to be becoming, she didn't want to send the wrong signals by bringing any to his apartment, especially with Jack home.

"Sorry about that," Hotch said, coming down the short hallway right as Emily had finally decided to take a seat.

"No, that's fine. I should have tried to be more fashionably late."

"Once you have kids, being fashionably late by other people's standards just doesn't happen," Hotch said with a smirk. "So no worries. I just lost track of time. I didn't expect you to, well, meet him. I hope that wasn't uncomfortable."

"God, no. I love kids. He's adorable." She thought Hotch had been equally adorable, but she knew she couldn't get away with telling him that yet. "How old is he? Two?"

"Yeah."

"Doesn't seem to have the typical attitude of a two-year-old," Emily noted.

"He's getting there. You caught him on a good night. Can I get you something to drink? I picked up some beer. Sorry we couldn't go out."

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

"Sorry I couldn't get the day off, but there was no way I was going to ask twice," Emily said remorsefully, on the phone with Hotch during her lunch break. Sean was expected to arrive any minute now, and Hotch was at home with Henry and Charlotte. They had debated pulling Jack out of school, but he'd only be missing out on a couple of hours with his uncle, so they had decided not to shake up his routine.

"You'll still have time to meet Sean before your parents get here."

"Maybe fifteen minutes," Emily mumbled. "Did Jessica ever call you back?"

"Not yet. I'll try her again."

"Okay. Well, I'll try to get out of here early. Why do I have the feeling at least one of us is going to be out on the porch chain-smoking once this is all over?"

"Because you're realizing just how crazy of an idea this was."

"You thought of it," Emily reminded him.

"You went along with it. And by the way, we don't have any cigarettes, so you might want to make a stop."

**A/N: Reviews are love!  
**


	62. Another Instance of Poor Timing

**A/N: Dinner time!**

A motorcycle roared into Hotch's driveway right on time, interrupting the absolute silence of the household. He went to open the front door once the engine was cut. As estranged as they'd been, he couldn't help but smile as his brother approached the house with his helmet in one hand and a small overnight bag in another.

"Sean," Hotch said as they joined for a manly one-armed back-patting hug.

"Hey, Aaron. Good to see you."

"How was the drive—or should I say ride?"

"Pretty nice. I'm, uh, gonna need to use your car to go to the store for food."

"No need. I already did the shopping," Hotch said as he let Sean inside.

"Yeah, we'll see about that," Sean replied with a chuckle. "Is Jack home?" he asked, shouldering off his leather jacket and hanging it up. He set his other belongings on the floor and followed Hotch into the kitchen, where the latter had been going through finances for the month, deciding no time was better than the present.

"No, we kept him in school for the day. He'll be out in a couple hours though. He's excited to see you."

Sean flashed a toothy smile. "Good. What about these other little munchkins?"

_Munchkins?_ Hotch thought. "They're both down for a nap. They'll probably both be up any minute. Can I get you anything?"

"A beer would be great."

Hotch grinned and rolled his eyes, but acquiesced to his brother's request, opening one for each of them. "Come on in, sit down." They both got settled in the living room. "You cut your hair. You look good."

"Thanks. You look like hell," Sean returned.

"I know," Hotch said with an amused eye roll. "Still no greys, though."

"You'll wake up with ten of them tomorrow just for saying that."

"Yeah, probably." Charlotte cried from upstairs. "That would be the baby. Hang tight." Hotch came down with the baby, much calmer in someone's arms, a minute later. "This is Charlotte," he said simply.

"She's a cutie. Just don't tell anyone I said the word 'cutie.'"

"Oh, you know what," Hotch said, raising the baby to his face and taking a whiff without a second thought, "she needs to be changed. Hold her while I find a diaper?"

Sean cringed. "I don't know, I don't think babies like me."

"Then I hope you use protection. Here." Hotch deposited Charlotte into Sean's reluctantly open arms. She looked serenely up at him.

"You're so…domestic," Sean said in awe when Hotch took the baby back to change her.

"Things are much different now. Much, much different," Hotch said under his breath. He whipped open the changing pad and got to work.

"I've never seen you change a diaper."

"Trust me, I didn't change many of Jack's. I almost needed lessons this time around."

"What's the little guy's name?"

"Henry."

"Hey, Henry," Sean said, glancing up the stairs.

"Oh, he's up. Hey, buddy, come on down," Hotch called.

Henry carefully climbed down the stairs and took a wide path around Sean to Hotch.

"Toddlers don't like me either, I guess," Sean said, clasping his hands between his knees.

"He'll warm up. He's never one for chit-chat when he wakes up, are you, Henry?" Henry shook his head, climbed up onto the couch, and stuck his thumb in his mouth.

"I think I'm getting cavities as we speak," Sean said.

"Let's talk about something a little less saccharine, then. What's going on with you?"

"Not so fast. I wanna know more about this lady you're living with."

"Here we go," Hotch said with a sigh. "What do you want to know?"

"Why you're not with her. Or _how_, I should say. Is she not attractive?"

Hotch looked up from changing the baby's diaper and gave Sean an unimpressed look.

"Okay, so she's hot. So why aren't you together?"

"Sean, you're thirty now. You still haven't caught on that it takes a little more than physical attraction for a relationship to work?"

"Fine, then. Is she a b—I mean a nag?"

"Well, she can be—a nag, that is— but usually only when it's needed."

"Is she interested in someone else?"

"No. It's more complicated than anything you're thinking of, Sean. That's all I'm going to say."

"Aaron, you dragged me out here to get back in touch, so I could get acquainted with your new family and all that. I've been here five minutes and you're already closing me out. I'm your brother."

"You're right. You are my brother. But this is the most we've spoken in years. I can name dozens of people I know better than I know you."

"And I'm trying to fix that. Why can't we just talk, man-to-man? It's not like you have to tell me every detail, but you putting up walls right away isn't really going to make this an enjoyable day."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you feel hurt or anything. But Emily and I are not together for reasons that are extremely personal in nature. It's something we don't talk about with anyone, really. It's not just you."

"What, do you have a history or something?"

Hotch shot Sean another look and shook his head. "Sean, I really wish I could be more open with you about this. Trust me, I do. But it's personal. I can tell you about absolutely anything else."

"Can I ask you just one more thing about her? Then I'm done."

"I can't promise I'll answer."

"You sounded okay with the fact that you're not together when we talked on the phone. It doesn't seem that way now."

"Any tension you sense is due to your badgering. I'm happy with the way things are."

"Okay, then."

"Let's change the subject. Let's talk about you. Are you living by yourself?"

Sean sat back and crossed one leg over the other. "Yeah."

—

Hotch left Sean at home with the two younger children while he picked Jack up from school. He breathed a sigh of relief when he got home to no cries. Charlotte had fallen back asleep and Henry had seemingly brought every toy he could find into the living room. "Hey, Jack," Hotch said, "this is your uncle Sean. You probably don't remember him, because you were really little the last time you saw him, but this is Daddy's little brother."

"I have a little brother, too," Jack said to no one in particular. Sean turned to watch the interaction.

"Hey, Jack," Sean said. "How's it goin'?"

"Hi." Hotch was surprised that Jack hadn't tried to hide behind him. For some reason, he'd expected this to be a little less comfortable for Jack, but Jack approached his uncle quite readily.

"Hey, little man. Can I get a hug?" Sean asked, getting up from his seat. Jack nodded and stepped into Sean's embrace, even letting his uncle pick him up. "You got _so_ big! Let me see your muscles." Sean flexed his short-sleeve-covered bicep in demonstration, and Jack mimicked him. "Whoa, I bet you're really strong, aren't you?"

Jack smiled and nodded. "Can I get down now?"

"Sure thing." Sean let his nephew loose and watched him trot over to the back door to put on his play shoes.

"Well, that went well," Hotch remarked.

"Yeah, I think he might actually like me."

"I'm glad. Not only because you're family but because he has more people to meet tonight, so hopefully it goes this way for everyone."

"Oh right, her parents. What are they like?" The men sat down and watched Jack help Henry put on his shoes, too. It took him quite a while, but Hotch was happy to see them cooperating with one another, so he didn't cut in.

"I've only met her mother, and I haven't talked to her very much. She's an ambassador, but I honestly don't know what Emily's father does for a living. I've never asked."

"Is her mom what I'm picturing when I picture a female politician?"

"Uptight and controlling?" Hotch asked with a grin. "A little bit. Emily would say the same thing, but don't tell her I said it."

—

Emily got home to some unidentifiable but marvelous aroma coming from the kitchen. "Mommy!" both the boys clamored, being the first to see that she was home.

"Hey, guys," she said, bending over to ruffle their hair. "Where's your dad?"

"In here," Hotch called from the kitchen. Emily walked in on Hotch and Sean cooking dinner. Hotch seemed like he'd been doing more standing around and distracting Sean than cooking, but both of them looked content. _One down, two or three to go_, she thought. "Emily, this is Sean. Sean, Emily."

"Heard a lot about you," Sean said, wiping his hand on a towel and shaking hers. "No raw meat, don't worry."

"It's great to meet you. Did you two have a nice day, get caught up?" she asked. She groaned under the weight of Henry, who insisted on being picked up, and then took a keen interest in her dangly earrings.

"Yeah, it's been great," Sean answered.

"Can I ask what you're cooking?" Emily said, smiling at Sean and ducking between him and Hotch.

"It's a surprise. My own creation. As long as you have an open mind, I'm sure you'll like it."

"Well, it smells fantastic. I'm sorry I couldn't be here when you got here. I wish I had more time to get acquainted before my crazy parents get here and reduce me to tears. Well, more my mother than anyone. My dad just sits there and twiddles his thumbs."

"See?" Hotch muttered to Sean.

"Sounds like it's gonna be a good time," Sean said.

"Oh, you have no idea. Can you talk and cook at the same time?"

"If he couldn't, he wouldn't have a job, and I would've been kicked out of the kitchen an hour ago," Hotch quipped.

"Good, then tell me about your—ow—Henry, I love you, but I need you to stop pulling on my earrings. It hurts. Why don't you go play with Jack until dinner?" She set him down.

"They sure do like you," Sean said.

"Eh, most of the time," Emily said back, still smiling. "Oh, I saw you have a motorcycle."

"Yeah, it was a good day for a ride. Ever been on a motorcycle before?"

"Sean," Hotch warned when Emily gave Sean a good-humored rejection smile.

"Kidding, kidding. So, you guys met at work? I bet Aaron was quit the drill sergeant."

"That's putting it mildly," Emily said. When Hotch's hand touched the small of her back, she figured it was instinctive, possessive. She didn't fault him for it and moved on, sensing that Sean was also aware of where Hotch's hand was. She didn't want to draw attention to it, but it was hard to tell her body not to listen. "Did Aaron pick on you when you were kids?"

"Our childhoods barely overlapped," Sean said. "He's got fifteen years on me. I was an accident, I'm sure, though our parents would never admit it."

"Oh, they admitted it to me," Hotch said, laughing.

Emily laughed briefly along with Hotch. "Glad you guys are getting along. I'm gonna go change. Be back down shortly."

—

"Still no answer from Jessica?" Emily asked Hotch shortly before her parents were due to show up.

"No, and to be honest, we're probably better off that way. If she's going to come around with this whole thing, it's going to take a while. We're not going to win her over in one night, and she'd just make things more tense."

"You're right," Emily said.

"Come again?"

"Shut up." Emily swatted Hotch lightly on the stomach right before the doorbell rang. "Here we go. Oh, and," she mumbled, "the possessive thing is cute around your brother, but please, none of that around my parents. They already have a hundred reasons to doubt us."

Hotch's face grew hot; he thought he'd gotten away with his little stunt in the kitchen. "Sorry, instinct. He's a flirt."

"I know. It's not a big deal. We just have to keep cool around them."

Hotch followed Emily to the front door. "I suppose it would help if I acted like I haven't seen you naked."

Emily turned on her heel and suppressed a smile by baring her teeth in a growling manner instead. She pushed a finger into Hotch's chest. "I'm serious!"

"Then why are you obviously trying not to smile? I'm just trying to ease the tension," he teased.

"Yeah, right. You just want to watch me get the third degree tonight. You're gonna love it."

"You know that's not true," Hotch said, now more serious.

"I know," Emily said with one final look back to Hotch before opening the door. "Mother," she said first, kissing Elizabeth on the cheek. Her mother greeted her and Hotch shortly, and Hotch offered to take her jacket while Emily moved on to her father. "Hi, Dad," she said quietly to her father, who was tall, balding, and sporting a thick pair of glasses. She gave him a tight hug, giving Hotch the impression that although she surely loved both her parents equally, she probably _liked_ her father a lot more.

"Hi, sweetie. Okay, you have to introduce me," her father said.

"This is Aaron Hotchner. Former boss, current domestic co-captain. Aaron, this is my father, George."

"Mr. Prentiss," Hotch said confidently, reaching out for a firm handshake.

"Please, just George. Pleasure to meet you. I hear there are more people for us to meet. Shorter ones?"

Emily laughed and took her father by the arm, leading the pack into the living room. Sean had insisted Hotch and Emily not make a big deal out of introducing him, and was nowhere to be seen at the moment.

"Jack, Henry, come say hi," Hotch said. The boys were currently making a mess with their toys in the living room, but now obeyed Hotch, walking timidly up to their new visitors.

"Guys, this is my mom and my dad."

"Ambassador and Mr. Prentiss," Hotch clarified.

"Oh, please," the ambassador said, waving Hotch off. She crouched down and gave the boys a tiny, friendly wave. Emily exchanged a surprised glance with Hotch. "Which one of you is Jack and which one of you is Henry?"

"I'm Jack."

"Nice to meet you, Jack. You can call me Elizabeth. Or Liz, if you like."

"'Kay."

"So you must be Henry," she said to the toddler, who gave her one fleeting glance before running to Emily and hanging onto her jeans.

"Sorry," Emily said to her mother, hoisting Henry up onto her hip. "Henry, why don't you say hi? Please?"

"Hi," he mumbled, then turned his face away from everybody.

"I'll bring the baby down," Hotch said, heading upstairs.

"Henry, can you please be nice?" Emily cooed, brushing his hair away from his forehead.

"No."

Emily sighed and shrugged resignedly at her parents, who seemed to understand.

"How old are they, and which one is Aaron's?" her mother asked.

"Jack is Aaron's, and he's five—"

"I'm five!" Jack shouted, holding up one hand.

"He's five, in case you haven't heard. And Henry's two and a half. His sister, Charlotte, is what—" Emily rolled her eyes into the back of her head. "—fourteen weeks? Yeah. Wow. It's been ten weeks already. The longest ten weeks of my life."

"Appreciate it. They'll all be teenagers before you know it, and you'll be wishing they were still small enough to be picked up," Emily's father said.

Just as Emily smiled warmly at her dad, Hotch arrived downstairs with Charlotte, who hadn't woken up.

"How precious," the ambassador said, holding her hand over her heart as she looked down at the baby, prompting Hotch and Emily to share yet another confused look. Emily was half-tempted to ask her mother if she was well.

"Elizabeth said something about a brother and a sister-in-law," George said. "Are they here?"

"Uh, I don't think my sister-in-law's going to be able to make it. My brother Sean's around here somewhere, though" Hotch said. "He was working on dinner but I don't see him. Let me go see if I can find him." Hotch was obviously flustered. He tried out front first, figuring Sean might be taking a phone call outside but had been missed by Emily's parents. "Sean?" he called. He walked around the side of the garage and saw his brother leaning against the wall, smoke issuing from behind him. "There you are. Emily's parents are here. Can you stop hiding and come in and meet them?"

"Yeah, I'll be in in a minute," Sean said.

"I can see the cigarette. At least I _hope_ it's a cigarette."

"Yeah, it's just a cigarette. Trying to quit."

"It's not a big deal. Stop hiding and come inside," Hotch said with a grin, but he decided he didn't need to share his and Emily's indulgence. It was their little secret. One of them, anyway. Sean followed Hotch inside and buttoned up his shirt along the way. As if on cue, the oven beeped, requiring someone's attention, and Sean hurried to it, but Hotch put his arm out in front of him. "The oven can wait one minute. Come on. You shouldn't be more scared of them than I am," he said under his breath.

"I'm not scared of them. I just don't want to make a big deal out of it. You said I wouldn't have to socialize. How often will I even see them, anyway?"

"This is Sean, Aaron's younger brother," Emily said, surprising the Hotchners by leading her parents into the kitchen before Hotch could answer Sean.

Sean shook hands with Emily's parents and excused himself.

Emily almost would have preferred bickering to the awkward silence that followed as they all sat down to dinner. The boys didn't even provide any entertainment, eating their food as gentlemanly as their little hands would let them.

"So, George," Hotch said after Emily's eyes prodded him to start up a conversation, "Emily's never said what you do for a living."

"I'm a husband to a U.S. ambassador," George said with a grin, even getting one out of his wife. "I worked in the Department of State, but I retired a couple years ago. Now I golf as much as the weather allows and stay out of Elizabeth's way."

"Sounds like a good time to me," Hotch said. George leaned over and gave his reluctant wife a kiss on the lips, at which point Jack found a way into the conversation.

"Daddy, they kissed, just like you and Mommy!"

Emily hid her face behind one hand, not even realizing that her mother wouldn't automatically interpret her as the "mommy" to whom Jack was referring. Hotch thought fast, though, cutting Jack off and hoping he could keep him from getting more specific. "Yeah, buddy, just like me and your mommy used to be. Makes me miss her." He placed his broad hand on Jack's head, more than covering his sandy colored hair.

"Not _that_ Mommy! Emily, Daddy!" Jack said, pointing at her.

"I think you're confused, Jack," Hotch said in a panic but hiding it well.

"He calls you 'Mommy'?" Elizabeth asked Emily.

"You two are together?" George added. "Elizabeth told me you were only friends."

"Hey, Jack!" Sean said excitedly, wadding up his napkin and placing it on the table. "You haven't eaten much of your dinner. Want a peanut butter and jelly instead?"

"Yeah!" Jack climbed down from his chair. "Come on, Henry!" Sean snatched up Henry and disappeared from the dining room with both boys.

"He is _such_ a good cook," Emily said. "He owns a restaurant in Sweetbriar. We should all go visit and check it out sometime."

"You're from Sweetbriar?" Elizabeth asked, taking a sip of wine.

"Yes, ma'am," Hotch said, eager to keep the conversation moving, and grateful for the opportunity, although he was sure Emily would be questioned by her mother later. George simply looked too uncomfortable to ask anything further about Hotch's and Emily's relationship status, not oblivious to the fact that Hotch and Emily didn't want to discuss it. "Sean and I grew up there."

"Well, isn't that something," Elizabeth said coolly. "I never would have thought you were from around here. I always assumed you were from further north, for some reason."

Dinner went on at a painstakingly slow pace; Emily swore her mother was dragging it out on purpose, taking smaller and smaller bites, and drinking more and more wine so that she could keep refilling her glass. Sean never showed up with the boys again, and neither Hotch nor Emily could blame him. Eventually, Emily thought it appropriate to start clearing the table.

"Let me help you with that," Elizabeth said before Hotch could.

"Nonsense," Emily said. "You're a guest."

"I insist." Elizabeth's response sounded anything but friendly. Hotch was soon left alone in the dining room with George, who poured himself another glass of wine and offered Hotch the bottle.

"Don't mind if I do."

From the kitchen, Emily could see Sean and the boys through the back door, playing outside. With her carefully placed buffer no longer in place, Emily prepared for the worst. "You told me you two were only friends," Elizabeth said quietly as she shuffled silverware and plates around to take up less room in the sink.

"We _are_ only friends," Emily muttered.

"Well, not according to Jack."

"Jack's confused."

"So you're going to lie to me? Emily, it's not as if you're in trouble."

"Okay, Mother. Fine. We kissed. Why does it matter to you?"

"Because you're my daughter and I think you've put yourself in a dangerous situation, both for you and for these children, that's why. When you said you were living with a man but platonically, I had a hard time believing that would ever work out. I guess I was right."

"No, you're not. The kiss was two months ago. Nothing's happened since. It was a mistake and Jack just happened to see it. Can we please change the subject?"

"I thought the purpose of your father's and my visit was to get acquainted with your new family and living situation."

"It is. You've met the kids, you've met Aaron, and our living situation is clear. If you'd like, I can show you our separate bedrooms."

"And do you actually sleep in yours?"

"_Mother!"_ Emily had a difficult time keeping her voice down. Luckily, she heard her father chatting with Hotch in the dining room, and her and her mother's conversation seemed to go unnoticed, or at least ignored.

"It's a completely legitimate question, Emily, and you know it. You knew each other going into this, he's handsome, his son calls you his mommy. Are you really telling me nothing's going on?"

Emily took a deep breath and turned away from her mother, stalking back into the dining room for more dishes, wishing she were better at keeping her temper. She eyed Hotch in despair on her way out, her mother hot on her heels.

"Emily, I'm your mother. Be honest with me. I know that admitting you've slept together would be admitting you've made a mistake—"

"That has nothing to do with why I haven't admitted to sleeping with him, Mother. I won't admit to something I _haven't done_."

"Then why are you acting so defensive?"

Emily's hands were in midair when the doorbell rang. "Lovely," she grumbled.

"Got it," Hotch called from the dining room, walking to the front door.

"Who is it?" Elizabeth asked.

"I have no idea. Maybe Aaron's sister-in-law, beyond fashionably late," Emily said, scraping a plate's remains into the sink, figuring Hotch would announce who their visitor was eventually. She was surprised not to hear him greeting anyone. "Aaron, who is it?"

**A/N: Reviews are love!**


	63. The More the Merrier

"Surprise!" Garcia called.

Emily almost dropped the plate she was rinsing.

"We come bearing gifts of—oh, hello," Garcia chirped when she saw who was standing with Emily. "You could _not_ be anyone but Emily's mother."

Elizabeth softened up to Garcia. "That I am. Elizabeth. And you are?"

"Penelope Garcia, ma'am." Garcia smiled and shook hands.

"You said 'we,'" Emily said, taking a hug from Garcia.

"Hey, Mama Emily," Morgan said. Rossi and Reid trailed behind him.

"Oh my God. You're all here," Emily realized aloud and turned off the tap. "Wow." She couldn't help but laugh. "Everyone, this is my mother, Amba—"

"Elizabeth. Nice to meet you all." Emily introduced everyone by name and tried to figure out what to do next. "Oh, wow, you brought food. We just finished dinner, actually, but I'd be happy to set the table and—"

"Nonsense," Rossi cut in. "We didn't know there was a, uh, family dinner going on. We should go, guys."

"No way. Stay, I insist." Emily pulled some clean plates from the cabinet and led them into the dining room. "Dad, these are our friends and former colleagues, Spencer, Derek, Penelope, and Dave. They surprised us with dinner so I guess if you're still hungry…"

"When am I not hungry?" George said with a smile. "Nice to meet you all. Sit, sit. The more the merrier. Wine?"

Emily emitted a breathy laugh and went back into the kitchen for silverware and fresh wine glasses. Garcia followed her. "I'm so sorry," she said.

"Don't worry about it. It was really nice of you to stop over. I've missed you guys. Mother, come sit down with us. I'll finish the dishes later. Garcia, what needs to be warmed up?"

"Nothing, it's sushi."

"Oh, good. I haven't had that in ages. Uh, psshhh, umm…go have a seat. Where did Aaron go?"

"It's still so weird to hear you call him Aaron," Garcia said once Emily's mom had left for the dining room. "But to answer your question, I have no idea. He kind of disappeared. All ninja-like."

"Yeah, I guess it is. I'll be right back." Emily tapped Garcia's shoulder on her way to the living room. She saw Hotch out back with his brother and the boys. "Get back in here," she hissed at Hotch once she shut the sliding door behind her. "No hiding, that's not fair." Hotch grinned at Emily's anger. "You are not being the least bit cute right now. Sean, some of our friends are over—actually, all of them, pretty much."

"I heard."

"Come on in and meet them. I promise, they're far nicer than my mother. And you." She pointed again at Hotch, at least playfully this time. "Seriously."

"It's not the team I'm afraid of, just the idea of fifty people in the house," Hotch said.

"You think_ I'm_ thrilled?" Emily asked with a smirk. "Come on. You didn't even say hi to any of them."

"I did, just very quietly." Hotch scooped up Henry and Sean did the same to Jack on their way back inside. Hugs and baby talk abounded at the appearance of the kids. Sean was friendly enough, but Emily felt bad for him. He'd only signed up to meet her parents and get acquainted with the kids, not meet four other people.

"Where's Miss Charlotte?" Garcia said once everyone was settled in and the containers of sushi were passed around. No one who'd already eaten objected to more food, except for the boys, once Reid told them what was in sushi.

"She's up sleeping. We can go get her, though," Emily said, gladly leaving the dining room with Garcia.

"I'm so sorry we barged in, sweetie. I thought the cars in front of your house were for a neighbor's party or something. Wasn't sure about the motorcycle in the driveway, though."

"Oh, it's fine. I was just having yet another tiff with my mother when you walked in, so nice timing. I don't mind saving that for later."

"Happy to be of service, then. What on earth possessed you to try and have all your family members over at once?"

"We were trying to take the easy way out and get it all over and done with at once. Jessica was supposed to be here, too, but she never called back. Anyway, hindsight is twenty-twenty. This was a terrible idea. My mother humiliated me in front of Aaron and Sean, then got me alone and attacked me about the whole thing with me and Aaron, accused me of sleeping with him and lying about it. I love her, but sometimes I could really smack her."

"I'm so sorry. Doesn't sound like a fun night."

"At least it's almost over."

"And here we come waltzing in with a second dinner and prolonging the misery."

"Seriously, don't worry about it. We will have to have you all over soon, though, without family present. We miss you guys."

"It's been so crazy without you at the BAU. Strauss has Derek looking for two new profilers."

"Ah, so we're finally being replaced?" Emily lifted Charlotte from her crib and handed her off to Garcia, knowing she'd want to hold her.

"Looks that way. God, we miss you guys," she repeated.

Emily felt a pang of guilt, knowing that Hotch wouldn't have retired if she hadn't tried to push him to the next level, and that if he hadn't left, she probably wouldn't have, either. If it weren't for her persistence where it wasn't wanted, she thought, their team would still be intact. But she knew it was no use apologizing, at least not to Garcia.

"Want to hang out up here for a while?" Garcia asked.

"For a few minutes. Can't hide for too long, though."

Meanwhile, Hotch tried to mix family and friends around the dinner table. Most of the adults seemed most interested in Henry and Jack, who loved the attention. Hotch worried about Jack spilling the beans for a third time, as he hadn't taken a moment to take him aside and remind him that what he had seen two months ago was their little secret.

"I'm five," Jack shared with everyone.

"_Five_?" Morgan said. "Whoa, man, slow down. How old are you gonna be when you have your birthday?"

Hotch grinned when Jack answered, "Six! Six comes after five."

"Wow…" Morgan said, flashing Hotch a smile. "What about you, Henry? How old are you?"

"Henry's two," Jack said.

"Hey, buddy, you've gotta let Henry answer for himself, okay?" Hotch chided.

"Two!" Henry echoed.

"You sure you don't want to try some sushi?" Rossi asked.

"No!" Henry shouted. His protestation was followed closely by tears.

"Sorry," Hotch muttered, "it's been a busy day for him. Henry, no one's going to make you eat any sushi."

"Sorry," Rossi said.

"Don't worry about it. He's fine. Terrible twos are kicking in six months late. So, how are things going at the BAU?" Hotch asked.

"Good. We're replacing you. Just FYI," Rossi said with a wink.

Morgan rolled his eyes. "Don't even get me started. Can we talk about something besides that? Strauss won't get off my a—off my butt about it."

"Have fun with that," Hotch said. "Reid, you're quiet. How's it going?"

"Fine," Reid said with a shrug. "How are you handling having three kids?"

"Every day is an adventure." Hotch felt self-conscious about his people skills, realizing that Emily's parents and his own brother were silent. But it was his turn to be saved by the doorbell. "Excuse me," he said.

Glad for the distraction but at the same time nervous about more people invading the household unannounced, Hotch answered the door with mixed feelings. Jessica stood on the other side.

His head and heart pounded. "Jess, come on in," he said flatly. Could this evening get any more tense?

"Hi," she said timidly. "Who's all here?" She didn't put her purse down.

"My brother, Emily's parents, and what remains of the BAU, who showed up to surprise us. Why didn't you come earlier? Sean cooked for everyone."

"I was busy until now."

"You could have let me know. I called you two or three times."

"Oh, come on. Do you really want me here?"

Hotch's lips thinned and he shook his head. "Honestly, no. Things are already tense enough as it is."

"Right. Okay, then. Can I just ask how Jack is before I go?"

"Jack's fine. So are Henry, Charlotte, Emily, and I. Thanks for asking."

"Well, you have a busy house, it sounds like. I'll be over on Friday to get Jack."

"There's sushi in the dining room."

"I'd rather not ruin your family dinner," she said. Chatter had already started up again in the dining room. Things sounded fine. "Sounds like you're right. I'd just make things worse."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," Hotch said, following Jessica back to the door. "I'm under a lot of pressure. I wasn't thinking."

"No, Aaron, I'm glad you can be honest. You're right, things are tense enough as it is."

Before Hotch could think of a way to keep her from leaving, she was out the door. He knew his people skills weren't excellent, but his slip-up still surprised him. Emily came downstairs with Garcia and the baby while he stood scratching the back of his head.

"Who was at the door this time?" Emily asked. Garcia sensed that Hotch and Emily needed a minute alone and took the baby toward the conversation in the dining room.

"Jessica," Hotch mumbled.

"And she left already?" Emily asked, eyes raised in surprise.

"I was a dick. I don't blame her."

"Well, she could have showed up when she was asked to, or called ahead of time. We have almost a dozen people in the house right now. You're stressed."

"So are you," Hotch noted. "You doing all right?"

"Getting by. Let's just get this over with. What time is it?"

"Only seven-thirty," Hotch said with a check of his watch.

"Rock-paper-scissors for who gets to escape the madness to put the kids to bed?"

"Go ahead," Hotch said, smiling as warmly as he could.

"I was joking. I put them down last night. It's your turn. Go for it."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She and Hotch walked back into the dining room.

"Okay, boys, let's go get ready for bed," Hotch said, holding out his arms to help Henry down.

"I want Mommy to tuck me in," Jack whined.

"Jack, enough with the whining. Not tonight. Come on."

"No. Mommy!" Henry echoed over Hotch's shoulder.

Emily felt her cheeks flush, knowing that none of her friends knew about Henry (or Jack) calling her by the _m_-word. Hotch managed to get the cranky boys upstairs without her help. The silence was torture.

"They call you 'mommy?'" Reid asked.

"Uh, yeah," Emily sighed, taking a seat again and reaching out for one of the sushi containers.

Reid nodded, obviously not thrilled with this new development.

"That's good," Morgan said at the same time that Garcia held her hand over her heart.

"You told me Henry was calling Hotch 'daddy' but you didn't say anything about them calling you 'mommy,'" Garcia cooed.

"They really like her," Sean chimed in. "She does a great job."

Emily shot him a nervous "thank you" smile.

"She does an amazing job," Garcia marveled.

"I'm sure you do," Elizabeth said. Emily had almost forgotten her mother was there. Unfortunately, she didn't sound like she was trying to be nearly as helpful as Sean. As expected, Emily's father said nothing.

"Doesn't surprise me in the least," Morgan said with a genuine smile.

"Can I get anyone anything? We have more wine. Beer too, I think. Water, milk, juice…"

"We should probably be on our way," Rossi said. "Thanks for the hospitality."

Emily nodded resignedly and excused herself to her parents and Sean.

"Sorry for barging in," Morgan said, taking Emily in for a hug and adding a kiss on the cheek. "We'll try not to make it a surprise next time."

Emily chuckled. "No, it's okay. I'm glad you stopped by. Sorry things were a little crazy." She issued hugs and goodnights all around, sensing that Reid was upset but having no idea why. She took Charlotte back from a very reluctant Garcia.

"Goodnight, sweetie," Garcia said one last time, waving on her way out the door.

Morgan hung back for a moment.

"What's with Reid?" Emily asked. "Did I say something?"

Morgan grew a little morose. "He's taken it harder than any of us. Even Garcia, I think. Garcia has you to talk to. And you know her, she always looks at the bright side of things. She's always talking about you and Hotch and the kids and how much she wishes she could make it over more. But Reid…JJ was his best friend on the team."

Emily nodded, now knowingly. "It's the 'mommy' and 'daddy' thing, isn't it? He feels like we're insulting JJ's memory."

"Yeah, I think so. But don't worry about it. I think that if anything, you guys are doing the right thing. You're giving the kids a loving home and a family. I'm sure JJ's looking down on all this and she's glad she left the kids to you guys. Reid's still having a hard time handling it, yeah, but it's not like he couldn't have said hi to the kids."

"That's not his fault. Things are nuts around here. None of you really had a chance to spend time with the kids."

"How about now? Can I?" Morgan asked with a sudden smile. He held his arms out for the baby. "Damn, she looks just like JJ," he whispered.

"Tell me about it," Emily said, leaning in and taking a look.

"She an easy baby?"

"Yeah, pretty much. Thank God."

Morgan laughed and handed her back over. "We carpooled here. I'd better go before they get annoyed."

"Yeah. Thanks again for coming by. We'll have to do dinner or a cookout or something sometime soon."

"Definitely." Morgan gave Emily one-armed hug. "Keep up the good work. Don't let anyone else get you down, okay?"

Emily gave him a half-hearted smile and a nod. "Goodnight."

Just as Emily shut the door behind Morgan, Sean passed behind her. "Gonna go see if I can help out," he said, clearly giving her some time alone with her parents. Even though Emily dreaded it, she knew they needed it.

"Hi," she said quietly when she reentered the almost empty dining room. Half-eaten sushi and dirty dishes and glasses littered the table.

"That was quite the party," her father remarked lightheartedly.

"Tell me about it." Emily sat down one seat away from her mother and cradled her forehead in one hand. "Sorry about all the madness."

"The children will provide you with much more stress than this," Elizabeth said.

"They already have, believe it or not."

"Are you sure you're doing the right thing, then?"

Emily drew the deepest breath she could and counted to three before speaking. "Why can't I just have your support?" she asked her mother. "What's with all the doubt?"

"Because you sound doubtful yourself."

"That doesn't give you a right to call me out on every little thing. You wonder why I don't tell you everything? Because you have an opinion about everything. _Everything. _You can't give me your unwavering support for five minutes."

"My job as your mother is not to support you in everything you do, Emily. My job is to look out for you. I think you're making a terrible mistake."

"You've succeeded in humiliating me and probably insulting Aaron. I can't talk to you right now. I need you to leave," Emily said, tears stinging her eyes. "Dad, are you okay to drive?"

George nodded and left the room to get his and his wife's jackets.

"And just so you know, Mother, We're already legal guardians. It's only a matter of paperwork to adopt them, which we're doing as soon as we get an appointment with the attorney. Whatever _mistake_ I've made, it's a little late to fix it," Emily said coldly. She rose smoothly from her chair and went to the front door to hug and kiss her father goodnight. Her mother offered up no such gesture, so neither did Emily. Hotch and Sean were still upstairs, so Emily set Charlotte in her carrier and took a moment alone to duck into the half bathroom off the living room to splash some cold water on her face. She blew her stuffy nose and decided to finish cleaning up. She was halfway through the dishes when Hotch sneaked up behind her and gently pried a plate from her hands.

"I've got it," she said.

"Let me."

"No, I—I really need a little time alone right now. This is actually kind of therapeutic. Where's Sean?"

"He's up reading to the boys."

"That's sweet. Go up and join him. I'm okay down here."

"You sure? You don't want to talk?"

"Not right now, but thank you. Can you take the baby back up too, please? She's in the living room." Emily turned and smiled at Hotch to send him away.

"All right." His hand brushed over her hair briefly before he walked off. Emily tried to wash her mind clean like she did the dishes, tried to forget what her mother had said, what she had said back. Tried to forget the humiliation and the guilt that went along with her reaction. Once she was done with the dishes, she got sheets, blankets, and pillows out of the linen closet. Just as she was about to make a bed for herself on the couch, planning on offering Sean her bedroom, he and Hotch came downstairs, free of all children.

"If you let me change really quick, you can have my room," she said to Sean.

"No way. I'm fine on the couch."

"The couch isn't good for sleeping. Take my room," Hotch argued.

"Stop, both of you. The couch is fine. I can fall asleep standing up."

"Are you sure?" Emily asked.

"Positive."

"If you insist." Emily desperately wanted to go to bed, but couldn't justify hitting the hay so early when they had company. Hotch suggested watching some television and Sean gladly plopped down in the recliner.

Emily took the couch and Hotch sat down beside her, casually slinging an arm behind her, but not touching her. She resisted the urge to fall sideways into him when her eyelids started to droop shut after only an hour. She couldn't dream of reprimanding him for this simple gesture.

"You look beat," Hotch muttered when he sneaked a glance at her. "Go to bed."

"No, I'm fine. We have company," she said back, even more quietly.

"We'll all have some time to chat in the morning. We're just watching TV right now anyway."

Emily sighed. "You sure?"

"Emily, seriously. Go. You're not needed here," he teased.

"It's not like you didn't have a stressful night too, you know."

"Yeah, but I don't look like I'm about to fall asleep."

"All right, all right. Goodnight." Hotch's hand brushed a small circle on her upper back before she got up. She bade Sean goodnight and an apology for not being more entertaining. He told her to think nothing of it; he and Hotch both watched as she went upstairs.

"Don't wanna sleep with her, huh?" Sean said under his breath, purposely just loud enough for Hotch to hear.

"Can it, or you're sleeping outside."

**A/N: Reviews are love! Who ticked you off the most? ;)**


	64. This

Emily peeked inside the boys' room to find them both asleep, then went to bed, lamenting the fact that she had to go to work the next morning. Emotionally spent, she turned up the baby monitor's volume and changed into her typical pajama pants and a tank top. She left her door ajar as always, but tonight, more than any other night, sincerely hoped that no one would walk through it.

Despite feeling like she could sleep for half a day without a problem, she tossed and turned for nearly an hour, hearing Hotch pass by on his way to bed after locking up, then hearing him go back downstairs for something and come _back_ up. Finally she gave up and sat upright. "Come on," she groaned, eying her clock. "Go to sleep, Emily."

Her heart tried to beat its way free and her breath caught in her lungs as the cold, square room took over her imagination once again. Her captors approached her menacingly, sick, twisted smiles plastered on their unshaven faces. They hadn't even given her time to put her clothes back on this time.

Emily luckily remembered they had company and slipped on her bathrobe before ambling down the stairs in the quiet darkness. Trying her best to do everything slowly and silently, so as not to wake Sean, whom she figure was sleeping by now, she put some water on for tea and searched for chamomile. While she waited for the water to boil, she tried to block the thoughts and feelings, the memories of being violated, tortured, memories of wondering whether she'd ever reclaim her dignity if she lived to see her friends and family again. But as usual, she was rendered powerless over the images and sensations.

She remembered what Hotch had told her—to come to him if she had another flashback, even if it meant waking him. Not a doubt resided in her mind that he would be more than happy to be the one to help her through this, but she figured he'd already put up with enough drama today—his as well as hers. Besides, the flashback wouldn't kill her. She'd had them before. Even though they were sheer torture, at least they were rather predictable and had never been completely debilitating. She prepared her tea and decided some fresh air might help distract her. Out to the front porch she went, leaving the door open behind her to avoid making any more noise. She saw only one car pass in the span of a few minutes. Much more was going on inside her head, though.

"Hey." The whisper came from the doorway, startling her. Sean stepped outside, rubbing his bare arms briskly.

"Oh, hey," Emily said. "What're you doing up?"

"Heard the door open."

"Oh no, I'm sorry. I tried to be quiet."

"Don't worry about it. What're _you_ doing out here?" He helped himself to the seat next to Emily.

"Couldn't sleep," she said with unfortunate sincerity.

"A little stressed?"

Emily thanked God for the conversation companion, as unexpected as he was. "A little?" she said with a grin, knowing it was heard even if it wasn't seen.

"Good point. I'm a good listener, you know."

Emily had been out there long enough to sense a come-on, but she couldn't tell if he was just joking. From what little she knew of him, she was leaning that way. In any case, she couldn't turn down the opportunity to distract herself from the mental torture. "Tonight was just crazy, that's all."

"Sorry if I contributed to that at all," Sean said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on his knees.

Emily dropped her used tea bag into the potted plant next to her, laughing in her head a little as she did. "You weren't a bother at all. It was pretty much everyone else. Or maybe just my mother. I don't know. Anyway, I'm really glad you decided to come out. I know it meant a lot to Aaron and to Jack, and I'm glad I got to meet you."

"I'm glad I got to meet you, too. As for your mom, I think you just need to remember that you're the one that lives this life every day. You're the one that should decide how. You're not a kid anymore. I mean, she's your mom, so she's allowed to give you advice, but that doesn't mean you should feel guilted into taking it."

Emily drifted off into her haunted place while Sean spoke. He wasn't quite as effective at blocking the flashback as his brother was. He was sticking too much to the topic that had her stressed to the point of having an episode in the first place, unlike Hotch, who had known to change to lighter subject matter. But she wasn't about to correct Sean, and she couldn't think of anything suitable to talk about, anyway. "Yeah," she said blankly.

"Your dad seems a little…cooler," Sean observed. Emily felt his eyes on her, but she remained staring straight ahead into the street.

"He always has been. He's pretty non-confrontational, which is great in the sense that he doesn't stir up drama, but it also means he never stands up to my mother." The first sip of her tea warmed her from the inside out, providing a relieving effect even though she hadn't felt cold, even though she was barefoot.

"Our parents were pretty much the exact opposite."

"What the hell am I talking about?" Emily asked in disbelief. "I'm so sorry. Here I am complaining about my parents while I'm lucky enough to have them around still. I'm sorry." She glanced over at Sean, who shook his head and gave her a reassuring smile and flick of his hand.

"No, no, don't worry about it. It's been a long time."

"Still…I shouldn't complain. They both love me, and I really can't ask for more."

_"Get on your knees."_

Emily froze in her chair and placed her mug of tea on the porch railing before burying her face in her hands, trying to rub the images away.

"You okay?" Sean asked.

"Yeah," Emily said, struggling to sound honest. "Just a random headache."

_"You don't know to listen by now? I'll teach you to listen."_

"Need a Tylenol or something?"

"No, I think I just need to head back up to bed. Thanks for the chat."

"No problem." Sean followed Emily inside and watched her lock up. When she turned around, he was blocking her path. "See you in the morning?" he asked.

"Yeah," Emily said, trying to figure out the quickest way away from the situation she knew was coming. She didn't move away in time to avoid Sean's hand brushing against her cheek. She moved away only at the last second, avoiding the lips that approached hers in the dark. He'd gotten close enough for her to taste his breath on her tongue. "I'm—sorry," she stammered, stepping away from him.

"What?" Sean was standing three feet away, not right in front of her. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm seeing things, I think. I really need to get to bed. Goodnight," Emily said hastily, walking away. She almost ran face first into Hotch, who rounded the bottom of the stairs just as she reached them. "Shit, you scared me," she said.

"Sorry. I heard the door close. Just came down to check on things." In boxers and a t-shirt now, he clearly hadn't planned on making any more trips downstairs that night.

"'Night, guys," Sean said, walking past them and into the living room.

"Goodnight," Hotch said. Emily didn't repeat herself. She simply followed Hotch upstairs and to his room. Somehow, he'd known she would. "Everything okay?" he asked in a hushed tone once his door was shut. He of course had toted a gun, which he now stowed in the safe by his bed. He turned a lamp on while he was there.

Emily took two deep breaths and let Hotch take her mug out of her hands. He set it on his nightstand and guided her to sit on the edge of his bed. He then settled in next to her. "Emily…is everything okay?" he repeated.

"No." She shook her head slowly and hoped Hotch would catch on without her having to say it, would jump in and talk about something cute that one of the kids had done that day before she'd gotten home from work, tell her a joke, talk about his day with Sean, anything.

To her surprise, but not to her dismay, the touch of his hand gliding up and down her back didn't bother her at all. Even though the men touching her in her mind's eye were not doing so in ways that normally made her crave physical attention, Hotch's hand had some sort of welcome effect, whatever it was. "I'm sorry. Tonight bit the big one, I know," he said.

"Yeah," Emily whispered, tears welling up under her eyes.

Hotch clearly didn't know just yet the nature of Emily's state, as he turned toward her and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms snugly around her and placing his chin atop her head. Emily felt a melting sensation in her chest and stomach, and warmth that spread to her fingers and toes. She locked her wrists behind his back and allowed herself the indulgence of resting her face against his chest.

"Did you go out and have a smoke?" Hotch asked lightly.

"No, I didn't stop for any on the way home. Probably best."

"Yeah, you're probably right. So Sean was down there chatting with you?"

"Yeah."

"Did he say something? You seem a lot more bothered than you were before you went to bed." A gentle swaying started on its own between the two of them.

Emily sucked on her top lip, her teeth cutting in. "Can you just talk about something else? Anything else?" she asked poignantly.

"Are you having a flashback?" Hotch asked, stopping their rocking motion.

"Mm-hmm."

"Emily," he breathed into her hair, swinging her softly once more. "You should have said something. Why didn't you come get me?"

"Enough drama for one night," Emily said.

"That's a bad excuse and you know it. I don't even care if we're so angry with each other that we aren't talking—if you have a flashback, I want to know right away. Okay?"

"Okay."

At that moment, their routine became established. "So, Sean and I went out in the backyard today with the boys before you got home," Hotch said, wasting no more time. "We tried to get Henry to play catch with that big bouncy ball."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. We knocked him over. So we stopped."

Emily giggled at the thought, glad that she had a moment in her head that consisted of something pleasant. "Was he okay?"

"Oh yeah. He thought it was funny. Jack thought it was pretty funny, too."

"Sean seems to get along well with the boys."

"Definitely. He took them to the store with him to get some stuff for dinner. He might actually make a good dad someday. I've always thought he was kind of a hound dog. I should've given him more credit. He's changed a lot."

"I'm sure Jack wouldn't mind a cousin or two," Emily said. The last memory of her flashback was being held by someone—she didn't remember who, but it was a man—once she'd been found. She took in a deep, shaky breath and resituated her cheek on Hotch's chest to find a cool spot on his shirt. "It's over," she said.

"Good." Hotch said nothing else for a few moments. "I'm sorry. I wish there were something more I could do."

"Please. You have no idea how much this helps." She closed her eyes, finally feeling safe in the blackness.

"Chatting with Sean wasn't helping?"

"Not really. He didn't know what was going on, obviously, and I couldn't think of what to change the subject to. He kept wanting to talk about my parents, and I think tonight is what triggered the flashback, you know, the stress, coupled with having one recently."

"Yeah." Hotch kissed the part of Emily's hair, having no clue how much it soothed her. He told himself he did it for her, but he knew that wasn't entirely true. "I really wish you didn't have to go through this."

"No, don't be upset. You really do help." Emily unlinked her hands and rubbed circles on Hotch's lower back with one hand.

"I'd much rather you not have them in the first place. Know that I say this not because I don't want to help you out on my own, but only because I care…but I think you should maybe go see somebody about this. Two episodes in less than two weeks is pretty frequent compared to before."

"Yeah, but they aren't getting worse."

"But you went from going five months without one to having two almost back to back. I worry about you. But I'm not mandating it. I know it's not my place to say."

Emily contemplated, then decided Hotch was right. "No, it is your place to say. If I were to have a flashback when I was alone with the kids and had to handle some sort of emergency…you're right. I shouldn't be too proud to do something about it. I'll go see someone."

"Good." Hotch's embrace tightened briefly before he pulled away.

"Thank you."

"Anytime. I mean it." Hotch couldn't help himself anymore. Not tonight. His hands found each of Emily's shoulders and he scooted up to kneel behind her. "Shoulder rub?"

Emily moaned. Variations of "We shouldn't" ran through her mind. "If I can return the favor," she said as non-seductively as she could. She figured if they were even, if they went favor for favor, it might make the situation more innocent. She knew very well that her reasoning was flawed, but she found it hard to care as his thumbs dug behind her shoulders and the mattress sunk behind her.

"Deal." She winced as Hotch seemingly used his entire body weight as leverage to knead her shoulders. Holding her breath entirely was her only way of refraining from making any noise that could be construed as sexual. She knew she couldn't vocally convey her appreciation in a pure, innocent way right now. Her feelings for him at the moment were almost anything but. The broad hands and thick fingers that she'd always loved were working out the knots in her muscles, trying to relax her. Or so their owner had said. Emily wondered, though not angrily, whether Hotch was trying to calm her or have the reverse effect. Eventually she gave him the benefit of the doubt, knowing that he wouldn't try to take advantage of her when she was so vulnerable, and that he would assume she would have no sexual desire for any man, let alone him, after her most recent episode. It was that day in her history that was leaving her too scared to commit to him physically, in any sort of way, and though she'd never told him the details, he knew the magnitude of the effect that the memories had on her. He knew she'd wanted to be with him before, and that his carelessness in leaving the BAU had ignited the tiniest spark of distrust in her. Distrust she couldn't help. Knowing these things, Emily decided that it was unlikely that Hotch was giving her the best shoulder rub she'd ever received with the expectation for something less innocent to happen between them afterward.

Oxygen became a necessity at some point, so Emily opened her airways, exhaling in one loud sigh. Hotch's purposeful fingers hit an extremely sore spot she hadn't even know she'd had, eliciting a sharp intake of air on her end.

"Did that hurt?" Hotch asked, slowing and softening the motions of his fingers. His voice sounded ever so softly right beside her ear, surprising her.

"Keep going," Emily urged, not wanting to lie to Hotch about the pain, but at the same time not wanting to tell him the truth and discourage him from continuing.

"Feel free to say no, but can we slide down your robe a little? It's a little thick. Skin-to-skin is probably more effective."

Emily wanted to give Hotch a knowing little smirk, but all she did was slip loose the knot on the belt of her robe and shoulder the entire thing off, not entirely sure what she thought of this all now.

"Or that," Hotch muttered, his lips still torturously close to Emily's ear.

"I was getting warm, anyway," Emily said truthfully, though that had nothing to do with why she left only her tank top covering her upper body now. "Shit," she hissed when she realized how much more powerful his hands were without the thick terrycloth getting in the way.

"Too hard?"

"No, just right. Where your right thumb hit…" Hotch kept his right hand where it was and his left hand joined it, pushing a tank top strap aside. He concentrated all his efforts on that spot, the spot that made it hard for her to breathe, made her head loll down in surrender to his hands.

"We never did talk about tonight," Hotch noted. "Think you're up for it?"

"Yeah, I suppose."

"Did you work things out with your parents before they left?"

Emily laughed under her breath. "No. My mother just wants to see the wrong in the situation. My dad…well, he'll support me in private but not in front of my mother."

"I'm sorry. I was really thinking your mom might come around if she met the kids and saw you in action, you know?"

"I thought so, too. Or at least I hoped so. I think it's just going to take more time and effort than that."

"Yeah, she'll come around, I'm sure." Hotch made Emily's eyelids flutter shut simply by brushing his lips on the skin right in front of her ear. "I'll try and be a little more supportive. It wasn't very nice or mature of me to hide out in the backyard when things got crazy."

"No, it wasn't, but I don't really blame you. I hid upstairs with Garcia for a few minutes myself."

"Ah," Hotch said, switching to Emily's other shoulder once her reaction to his massaging the other one had lessened. "That's where you were when Jessica stopped by."

"Wanna talk about _that_?" Emily mumbled.

"Not right at the moment." Hotch's hands centered in on Emily's narrow neck, his calloused thumbs temporarily paralyzing her.

"What about your brother?"

"What about him?"

"Did you have a good time with him? You seemed to."

"Yeah, I'm really glad he came. Do you like him? What little you got to know of him, anyway?"

"Yeah. You know, we really should go out and visit him sometime. Maybe some weekend this summer."

"You sweet on him?"

Emily blushed profusely, remembering the little hallucination she'd had downstairs not too long ago. "Not funny."

"Okay, we've established the fact that you're in love with my brother. Next topic. Was it a good or a bad thing that the team showed up?"

Emily chuckled and slouched forward. Instead of pulling Emily upright again by her shoulders, Hotch let his hands slide up and down her back gently, drawing out disproportionately loud moans from deep within Emily's chest. The noises were making Hotch fearful that his body would overpower his mind eventually, that he'd start _actually_ expecting something more from her.

"Well, it was crazy, but my mother was going to be my mother for every second she spent with me tonight, so them showing up meant I had to spend less time alone with my mother, which made it at least a little less stressful. And I was really glad to see them. I feel bad that we couldn't have been a little more welcoming."

"I'm sure they understood," Hotch said reassuringly, suddenly needing to work Emily's flesh under his hands once again, and fulfilling that desire by nudging her back up toward him by her shoulders.

Emily's head lazed to the side while Hotch dug into one shoulder again. "You know what really surprised me?"

"Hmm?"

"Reid seemed really bothered by the whole mommy-daddy thing with Henry. I talked to Derek about it and I said maybe Reid thinks we're trying to replace JJ and Will, and he agreed. Do you think that…we come off that way? Like we're erasing them from the kids' memories?"

"That's something I've worried about, but really, how else should we handle it? We love them, and we treat them like we would our own children were we to have children together. What are we supposed to do, tell Henry not to call us mommy and daddy, and tell Charlotte she isn't allowed to either, while Jack does? How would that be good for them?"

"It wouldn't." Emily sighed when Hotch's hands worked over the tops of her shoulders and to the fronts, his fingers working up and down. He was definitely not a certified massage therapist, but what he was doing to her felt better than any day at the spa she'd ever had. Suddenly she realized how much she ached for him in all the places she'd thought she'd closed off. Her core literally pulsated when his body pressed up against hers, his knees moving him closer to her.

Hotch no longer knew what this was. Not when Emily let out a whimper he hadn't heard since their night together three years ago, just because his hands left her shoulders. "I'm right here," was all he could think to say. He sat on his own feet and wrapped his arms around her chest, trapping her arms against her.

Emily felt her chest starting to heave, saw a haze settle over her eyes. They'd never touched like this while still clothed, yet she felt closer to him now than she had the night they'd almost slept together. Her tongue flitted across her dry, swollen lips and she rested her chin on his forearm. She didn't know quite what to do with her hands, so she left them in her lap, as badly as she wanted to touch him. They needed a cold shower, and not together. If she was going to make it out of here without taking her clothes off at some point, then she needed to shut things down. And she couldn't do that physically with the way he was holding her. He wasn't gripping her like a vice—no, he held her as if she might break. But this gentle embrace made it impossible for her to want to leave him. So she needed to use mental force. "Can I tell you something weird about your brother?" she asked.

"Of course." Hotch sounded a little wary.

"Don't say anything to him. But he was…saying goodnight or something, downstairs, and I had this little hallucination or something that he was trying to kiss me. I snapped out of it really fast and went back to my good old-fashioned L.A. flashback, but he probably thought that was a little weird."

"Oh." As much as Hotch knew Emily wasn't his territory, wasn't his property, he hadn't been able to help himself earlier that night. The little touches here and there were intended to let Sean know that he wasn't welcome here in that way, that—and Hotch felt worlds of guilt about this—if Hotch couldn't have her, nobody could. He knew it was very third grade of him, and he had _thought_ it was a silly, unnecessary measure. But if Emily had hallucinated about something more than friendly with Sean, Hotch wondered if there might be a reason behind it. This worry formed a knot in his stomach, and even though Emily was the source of this worry, the only thing that would put him back at ease at this moment was to rest his chin on her shoulder, to feel closer to her, to make her even less available to anyone but him.

"I honestly have no idea why I thought it," Emily said. "And I didn't bring it up to make you jealous or something," she added after a minute of Hotch not answering. She hadn't been hoping for jealousy, necessarily, but now that she thought about it, she didn't know how mentioning Sean could have had a cold shower effect on Hotch without jealousy being employed somehow. "Sorry if it sounded that way."

"It didn't. Just as long as you're not really…"

"Really what?" Emily asked, a smile behind her question.

"You know…"

"Into him?"

The incredulity with which she said this made Hotch cough out a tiny laugh, realizing how silly he sounded.

"Aaron." Emily reached back, finally finding a purpose for her hands, one of them pulling one of his shoulders closer and the other brushing his cheek. Both actions drew him nearer, causing his strong arms to tighten around her, his cheek to draw up next to hers. "I am _not_ into your brother."

Sweeter words hadn't escaped her mouth all day. Hotch knew, in hindsight at least, that he had nothing to worry about, but he absolutely loved the way she said it. The fact that he loved hearing her say it made him feel juvenile. But he was slowly realizing that when it came to her, he would look all kinds of foolish before he'd let anything (or anyone) happen to her.

"He's not serious enough for me," Emily added. "Also at least ten years too young, too shaggy, and I could probably list a dozen more reasons if I wasn't too damned lazy to think of them." Emily slowly shut her eyes at the conclusion of her sentence, wanting more than anything right now to add "And he isn't you" to her little list of reasons. But Hotch already knew how she felt. This had, long ago, stopped being a game of whether either of them were interested. No, it was now a test of willpower, a struggle each one of them went through on their own, instead of a fight between them.

Was she willing to risk everything—willing to lead him to resent her, willing to let a stagnating physical relationship push them apart even though he'd promised it never would—just to fool around with him right now because leaving was so difficult?

Was he willing to break down all the trust she'd placed in him? Willing to push the limits further than he already had tonight, after she'd just been assaulted by memories from a sexually traumatic past, all in the name of going with the flow and doing what felt right at this moment?

Emily realized with a steadily rising pulse that she was dangerously close to the line, and the way Hotch held her right now, the way his stubbly cheek remained right next to hers, the way his breath issued so close to her own lips that she could taste him, made her acutely aware of the fact that if she wanted to put a stop to things, she'd probably have to do or say something herself. He only seemed to be melting more and more into her, and she into him, and his arms only seemed to be drawing her in more and more securely. Maybe things would stay the way they were, wouldn't escalate to lips and hands moving to inappropriate places, but Emily knew it was foolhardy to assume that. She'd already taken off her bathrobe without really being asked to, and even though her current state of undress was something Hotch saw nightly, the act of disrobing in front of him—_for_ him—gave her skimpy little tank top a whole new meaning.

As much as she knew she needed to walk away, to make it clear that they were both crossing the line right now, she knew that being responsible had its repercussions, too. She didn't want to embarrass Hotch. She didn't want him to think she'd purposely been leading him on—because if he accused her of doing such a thing, she would just shoot back that he'd taken advantage of the vulnerability of the situation, which was true. She didn't want an argument with him. The thing that had caused her the most anxiety over the last two and a half months had not been the memories of her trauma, or even when the children drove her to the brink of insanity. The most torturous thing for her had been fighting with Hotch. Anytime they were at odds with one another, things felt inside out and upside down until the moment when they patched things up. Then she could breathe again. Drawing things to an unnatural end right now would probably cause tension between them, even though they _both_ knew they'd _both_ been in the wrong. She didn't want to wake up in the morning and be afraid to look him in the eye. Granted, this little situation they had themselves in, if gone unchecked, would probably result in the very thing she was afraid of—trying not to cross paths in the hallway, exchanging words only necessary to plan basic functioning of the household, and all while Sean was there. And even though Sean didn't have as fat of a résumé as his brother, he wasn't dumb. He would sense that something was wrong, either because of something he'd done, or because of something that had happened overnight. This was all tension and awkwardness that they didn't need and might not be able to handle.

Not only was she afraid of the strain that would surely result in her rejecting him, but she just plain out wanted to give him what he desired, what _she_ desired. She wanted to know that she could offer herself completely to him—maybe not now, but eventually, soon. She didn't want to keep him waiting around like he was obviously doing. He deserved to be happy. For everything he'd done wrong since they'd started this adventure together, he'd done a thousand more things right. She'd simultaneously hated and loved the bastard for seven months, but now she wished she had those seven months back. He provided her with little to complain about lately, save for the Jack and Jessica situation, which she knew had been rightfully sticky for him. Turning him away might possibly send him the message that she didn't appreciate everything he'd done, didn't appreciate the man that he was.

Emily's heart battled with her brain for a good five minutes before she realized Hotch hadn't said anything in return. What had she even said to him last? Something about his brother not being her type, she remembered. She wanted to at least draw Hotch's attention to the fact that they hadn't moved or spoken in quite some time. She was about to turn in his arms (and do what, she didn't know), when she realized she was sitting between his legs now, in the center of the bed—he no longer knelt behind her near the edge. His arms had loosened their grip on her, one of them falling down near her stomach, but her chin still rested on his other arm, which he'd propped up across his bent knee. And at some point, one of her hands had loosely interlaced its fingers with his. Together they made a warm, oddly comfortable tangle of unspoken but well-known feelings. So comfortable that moving from their former position to this one hadn't roused her from her thoughts.

She now wondered what Hotch was thinking. And then she wondered if she really wanted to know. He wanted the same things she did. She knew that much. Would being reminded of that fact really help her make a wise decision? Did she _want_ to make a wise decision? How many times had they been down a similar road before? This one was a new one, at least, maybe parallel to the old ones. Hotch now understood why Emily was so hesitant. Her flashbacks had reminded them both that this was far more than a matter of whether she wanted to be with him. He knew she would if she could.

"You fall asleep?" Hotch less-than-whispered, his cheek right where it had been before.

"No, just thinking."

"Yeah." He didn't ask what about, just expressed that he was doing much the same thing. Hotch squeezed the hand of hers that he held, then stroked the side of it with his rough thumb.

Instead of asking what exactly was on Hotch's mind, Emily said, "I think I owe you a shoulder rub."

"Do you?" Hotch's voice went a little bit higher, and barely louder.

"Let me rephrase that. I _know_ I owe you a shoulder rub."

"Can I make a trade?"

"For what?"

Complaining about Hotch's stubble scraping slightly across her cheek, as Hotch pressed in closer, was the last thing on Emily's mind.

"This," Hotch said.

Chills assaulted every cell in Emily's body, literally making her cold, forcing her to cozy up back into Hotch's body. With a return nuzzle of the cheek and a stroke along his forearm, after which point she rejoined hands with him, she was telling him that his proposed trade was fine with her.

"Did you just shiver?" Hotch asked.

"Yeah," Emily answered with a breathy laugh.

Hotch did the gentlemanly thing and assumed her shiver was due to the chill in the room, and grabbed a blanket that was folded at the foot of the bed. He whipped it open and wrapped it around them, letting it fall into place and stay there before he reclaimed her hand. "Better?" he asked, his cheek against hers once again, as if it had never moved.

_"Here, wrap up,"_ _Rossi said, throwing a scratchy blue blanket around Emily's bare and bruised arms._

And just like that, Emily had traveled back in time over three years. The tape, having nearly finished at her rescue, rewound to the first moment during her abduction when Emily had realized that she was not going to escape from her captors unharmed, not unless her team found her right away, which, of course, they hadn't.

"No." Emily pried her hand free and pushed her way out of the nest formed by the blanket and Hotch's warm body.

"Em? What's wrong?" Deep concern crossed Hotch's face and he scooted off the bed as well.

Emily shook her head and waved him away, trying to keep the tears at bay. Not tears induced directly by the scenes playing back in her mind, or the feeling of disgust that washed over her. They were tears induced by the new knowledge that not even Hotch could keep her safe. The simplest gesture from him had served as a trigger, and his slow approach toward her now had her heart pounding furiously. "Nothing," she said hastily, grabbing her robe and heading for the door.

"Is it another one?" Hotch asked, following her, and hoping she wouldn't want to open the door to escape until they were finished talking. "Come sit back down," he said gently, not waiting for a verbal answer from her. The way she avoided his eyes and hugged her own middle said everything he needed to know. "Please? You shouldn't be alone."

The dam broke and the tears cascaded down Emily's cheeks by the time she was seated on the edge of Hotch's bed. She clutched her bathrobe like a security blanket and hunched over it.

Hotch felt his own eyes well up as he sat down gently next to Emily. "I take it you don't want to be held this time," he said morosely.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head.

Hotch wanted to curse at Emily for even dreaming of apologizing, but he knew this wasn't the time or the place to go judging her character flaws. "No, don't be sorry. You can't help it."

"If I would have walked away—"

"That was _my_ fault," Hotch said firmly but quietly, still. He held out his arms as if protecting her from falling forward or backward, but as she wished, he didn't touch her. Sitting on the sidelines watching this happen to her—while at the same time having no idea what was happening to her—ripped him to shreds inside. Not only did he feel guilty for triggering another episode, making it two in one night, but he knew he'd been selfish in what he'd expected of her tonight, and he could never take that back. "If I would have kept my hands to myself, you could have—"

"Please, don't," Emily said, distantly, not angrily, as if Hotch were interrupting a thought process she'd actually elected to go through.

Hotch had the sinking feeling that this flashback was more intense than its two recent predecessors. But he remembered his job and tried not to dwell on how scared he was for her, how sickly responsible he felt. He knew he needed to focus on distracting her. "You know, Sean mentioned earlier today that he thought it was weird that Jack wasn't playing a sport yet. I was thinking soccer. Not too hard, and not as boring as tee-ball and baseball. What do you think?"

"Soccer sounds good," Emily struggled to say through her tears and congestion.

"I think they have toddler programs, too. You know, to teach them to kick a ball and not fall over, at least," Hotch said. At any other moment, the image of Henry playing soccer would have melted both their hearts, but Hotch couldn't even picture it. All he saw were fabricated images of what had happened to Emily. And apparently the kids weren't enough to distract _her_, either. "Do you think we could handle that? Two kids in soccer at a time?"

Emily rocked to and fro, burrowing her face into her bathrobe. She didn't answer, didn't acknowledge him at all.

"Sweetheart, can you hear me?" Hotch cursed under his breath when Emily still seemed oblivious—either that, or extremely stubborn. He was putting his money on the former, though.

It might have been going on for a while by now, but Hotch heard Charlotte wailing, most likely for a bottle. "Fuck," Hotch breathed. "Emily, can you hear me?" He crouched down on the floor to see if he could make eye contact from below, but her face was completely covered. "I'll be right back. I need to go get the baby. Don't go anywhere." Hotch stalked out of the room and went straight for the kitchen, not wanting to carry the screaming baby downstairs, where Sean was sleeping.

"Come on," Hotch muttered to the tap water, waiting for it to get warm enough to heat up Charlotte's formula just a little. They'd tried to kick the habit to make feeding more convenient, but she would only take it warm.

"Something goin' on?" Sean asked, scratching his head as he ambled into the dark kitchen.

"Oh, hey. Everything's fine," Hotch mumbled, wishing he weren't stuffed up already.

"Bullshit, Aaron. I know you both went to your room, and I couldn't hear anything, so I thought 'Whatever, that's their thing,' but now I can hear you up there asking if she can hear you. And you're crying to top it off. I don't know what the hell is going on and you don't need to tell me exactly what's wrong, but you can let me know if you need help. Do you need help?"

"The baby needs a feeding. Know how?"

"Bottle in the mouth. Think I got it," Sean said flatly.

"Burping too, obviously. And she'll need a new diaper, probably."

"On it."

"Warm this up a little more, but not until it's hot. That's too hot."

"Aaron, I've got it. Go do what you need to do."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it."

When Hotch made it back to his room and closed his door behind him, Emily looked exactly as she had when he'd left her. "Emily, can you hear me? Emily?" Hotch sighed at her non-response and took the water glass from his nightstand into his bathroom. He poured a glass of water and dampened a washcloth. And then he sat two feet from Emily.

And he waited.

Hotch told himself he would give Emily five minutes of non-responsiveness before he called an ambulance. After three, Emily looked up from her bathrobe and at the wall.

"Hey," Hotch whispered, hearing Charlotte screaming down the hall but trusting that Sean would be able to take care of it. "Is it over?"

"No." She sniffed and wiped her tear-caked cheeks, in the process flashing him her bloodshot eyes, the skin around them puffed almost to the point where she couldn't keep them open.

"Can you understand me?" Emily nodded hastily. "What's my name?"

"Aaron."

"Last name."

"Hotchner."

"And what's your name?"

"Emily Prentiss."

"When is your birthday?"

"October twelfth, nineteen-seventy."

Hotch was convinced of Emily's lucidity. "Here." He held out the wet cloth and glass of water. Emily whispered a "thanks" and hung the cloth on her forehead.

"Do you remember what I said about the boys playing soccer?" Hotch didn't know what he'd do if Emily appeared to have lost her memory from before she'd gone out of it.

"Yeah," Emily whispered. "It sounds cute. We'd be pretty busy, but I think we can make it work."

"I think you're right. Sean's feeding the baby. Ten bucks says she won't take it from him."

Emily laughed almost silently. "I'm not taking that bet. So does he know what's going on?"

"He knows something's wrong, but he didn't pry. He just insisted on helping."

Emily sucked in a huge breath and let it out shakily. "Good. Do you have any painkillers? I think I'm getting a migraine."

"Is it over?"

Emily rolled her lips into her mouth and shook her head.

"Hang on." Hotch surfed frantically through his medicine cabinet but the only bottle of pills he found was for heartburn relief. "Be right back," he said to a still lucid Emily before heading for the other bathroom. All he found there was an almost empty bottle of children's Tylenol. "Sorry," he sighed, "this is all we have. There's only one kid-size dose left in there. I'll send Sean for some—"

"No, don't. I'll be fine."

"Your migraine ended in thirty seconds?" Hotch asked skeptically.

"Yes." Emily took the bottle from Hotch and opened it up, downing the remains.

"You're drinking children's Tylenol out of a bottle. Listen, I'm sure Sean would rather run to the store than change a poopy diaper."

"Aaron, please don't make a big deal out of this."

"Emily, you really need to let people help you."

"That's all anyone ever does lately is help me. I'm sick of you having to pick me up and dust me off all the time. Do you know how useless I feel?"

Hotch felt this escalating into a fight neither one of them needed. "Listen to me." He crouched down in front of her again, still resisting the urge to lay a soothing hand on her. "I promise you, there will be days where I'll need you to return the favor. In the meantime, I will _never_ get sick of helping you. So will you please stop arguing and let me send Sean to the store? I promise he'll be happy to do it. Okay?"

Emily forced a sad smile and a reluctant nod. "'Kay."

"Be right back." Hotch found Sean walking Charlotte around the nursery, trying to get her to take her bottle. "She only eats if you're sitting."

"Oh, well, that explains a lot," Sean said with a nervous chuckle. "Is Emily okay?"

"She will be. Listen, can you run to the market down the block from the subdivision and get some Excedrin and some sort of over the counter sleep aid? It's not too late—they should still be open."

"Of course, whatever you need."

"The alarm code is two-zero-zero-six. My car keys are on the counter."

"Bike's faster." Sean strode dutifully from the nursery and down the stairs.

Hotch thanked God that none of this had woken the boys. The last thing he needed were curious children. The baby calmed down somewhat just by hearing a familiar voice. "How's it going?" he asked Emily, shutting the door behind him again.

"It's over," Emily reported.

"Oh, that's good." Hotch yearned yet again to hold Emily, to console her, but not only was she probably not comfortable with that now, he now had the baby to attend to. Everything he wanted to express to her at the moment involved physical contact, so he didn't quite know what else to say.

"Mind if I feed her?" Emily asked after a sizeable sniffle. She saw Hotch's hesitant look and scooted up against the headboard, then to the center of the bed. "There. If I pass out or go all exorcist on you, then I won't drop her." She held her arms out and wished Hotch would appreciate her humor just a little. Hotch handed Charlotte and her bottle over to Emily and sat at the center of the foot of the bed, facing them, just as Sean's motorcycle roared out of the driveway. "Would you please stop looking at me like I'm a wounded puppy or something?" she asked. She looked up at him and saw the tears that still lingered in his eyes, and the stains from the ones that had already fallen. She hadn't realized until now that he'd been crying. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to invalidate what you're feeling. But I am okay."

Hotch's brow furrowed. "For now."

"Well, for now is all that matters for now."

"Well, we need to talk about tomorrow. I think you should call in to work. I'm sure we can find you a last minute appointment somewhere. Even if it's just someone who will listen for an hour and write you a prescription. We can worry about long-term treatment later. What?" He saw a twinkle in Emily's eye, and it wasn't a tear.

"You're just kind of adorable when you go into helpful mode, that's all."

"I can't help it. I'm worried sick about you. All I can think to do is make plans, give orders. You know me." He sounded defensive.

"All too well. And I appreciate it. I didn't mean to make light of it." Emily gave Hotch a grateful look through her red, puffy eyes, and turned her attention back down to the baby.

"Can I ask you something?" Hotch asked.

"Of course."

"Was it worse this time? You reacted a lot more strongly, and there were a few minutes where you wouldn't respond to me. And please, be honest. Don't think you're helping me by sparing me the details. I need to know."

Emily nodded slowly and adjusted a pillow behind her back. "Yeah, a lot worse."

"How so?"

Emily decided the least she could do was let Hotch pry a little. She knew he was going crazy with not being able to help in any other way, knew he felt terrible for triggering the flashback, even though there was no way he could have known what a simple flick of a blanket would do to her. "More vivid imagery, more intense sensations, not just random moments this time, but the worst of the worst. Just…all around something I'd like never to go through again."

Hotch flattened his hands and held them in a praying position under his chin. His best efforts to stop his tears were futile. "You won't have to go through it again. We'll figure it out and we'll get through it. Can you humor me a little bit more?"

"Possibly," Emily said, keeping her eyes on the baby, not knowing if she could handle seeing Hotch cry. She knew full well that he was, but seeing him lose it was always heartbreaking for her. When Hotch lost control of his emotions, it was always for a very good reason.

"Either you sleep in my bed or yours and I'll sleep in a chair, or we take the living room."

"Oh, come on—"

"Please? I won't bug you, I promise. Just…humor me."

Emily rolled her eyes slightly. "Okay. Living room. I don't want the boys to get the wrong idea."

"Good point. I'm going to call off tomorrow, too. And don't tell me this was nothing. I came this close to calling an ambulance because you wouldn't answer me. At least for tomorrow, I'd rather you not be alone. I don't want to be overbearing, but—"

"Oh, please. You do too."

Hotch chuckled despite himself. "If makes you feel any better, I think I'm done bossing you around for the night."

"Good. But I hope you find a better way to pass the time once you're unemployed." Emily then threw away the humor, sharing a fleeting, poignant stare with Hotch, and they watched Charlotte finish eating. Emily handed her wordlessly back to Hotch for a burping. As he got up to walk her around the room, Emily said, "There was something else that made this one worse."

She had his attention right away. "What?"

"Knowing that you just had to sit there and watch. I know it was hard for you, and it was hard for me, too. I know you hate feeling like you can't control things, and I get that. I'm the same way, which is part of the reason these flashbacks are so horrendous. For five or ten minutes, or however long, I lose control of my thoughts, and it drives me insane. And if I were watching you or the kids go through something like that and if I couldn't even hold you, I'd lose it. I'm sorry you had to sit there and watch like that."

"I'm much more worried about you. As long as you're okay, I'm okay. And you're okay for now, so I'm okay for now. Except for the migraine. Is that getting better or worse?"

"Don't even ask," she said dryly.

They heard Sean's return from three blocks away. "There was actually a baby burp in there, too," Hotch reported once Sean cut his engine. "Diaper time?" he asked the baby, holding her out at arm's length.

"Here, let me." Emily got up and snatched Charlotte away before Hotch could object. He grabbed a twenty from his wallet, grabbed some more spare blankets and sheets from the closet upstairs, and made his way into the living room.

"Thanks again," Hotch said to Sean when the latter handed over a plastic bag. Hotch held out the cash in exchange and turned on a light.

"Keep your money."

"Sean—"

"_Aaron_," Sean mocked, waiting for an eye roll from his brother. "She okay?"

"She will be. Can you do me one more favor and take my room for the night?" Hotch asked in a hushed tone.

"I'll do you one better. I won't even ask why."

"I appreciate it. Emily and I will both be staying home tomorrow. You're welcome to stay as long as you want, but both of us might be gone at some point. Won't be terribly exciting."

"I'll stay, hang out with the kids. If that's cool."

"Jack will still be in school."

Sean shrugged. "He's not the only one who could use an uncle, is he?"

Hotch raised his eyebrows in unrestrained surprise. "Not that I'm not liking this, but what's this all about?"

"I've never seen you so freaked out, Aaron."

"What does that have to do with anything? And was I that bad?"

"Yeah. I figure you don't freak out like that over someone who doesn't mean a lot to you. This is your family now, and if I'm gonna be back in the picture for you and Jack, which I do want to be—and I'm sorry I failed you all those years, and no, I don't know why the sudden change of heart—but anyway, if I want to be part of your family again, then I don't wanna half-ass it."

"Sean, you didn't ask for this."

"So? Neither did you, and you're happy. Right?"

"At the moment, not terribly so. But, in general, yes, I'm happy. It means a lot to me that you're embracing the entire family. Like I said, you're welcome to stay as long as you want, and if you get sick of hanging out with the babies, feel free to take off. We'll understand."

"You done talking yet? I'd like to go to bed now."

"Thanks again."

Sean ran into Emily halfway up the stairs. "Hey, you feeling a little better?"

Emily smiled softly and nodded. "Thank you for running. I hardly know you. You didn't have to do that."

"Don't mention it. Goodnight." Sean gave Emily an awkward smile and continued on his way.

"'Night." Emily found Hotch in the kitchen, opening up her pills.

"Hey. Here. Excedrin PM. Didn't even know they made that." Hotch proffered a couple pills and a glass of water.

Emily took the babying, knowing it made Hotch feel better. "Thank you." She saw the pitiful look on Hotch's face when she was done putting back her medicine. She sighed and walked up to him. "Never know if I don't try. Just…no sudden movements." Before Hotch knew what was coming, Emily slid her arms around his waist and laid her cheek against his shoulder. Neither one of them knew the warmth that this provided the other. Relief washing over him when Emily didn't recoil, Hotch drew large, swooping circles on Emily's back, eventually encircling her completely.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Thank God."

Hotch warmed his cheek against Emily's hair and drew her in just a little closer. She laughed softly at his eagerness and hugged him back just as tightly.

"Do you think we'll be able to go maybe a week without a traumatic event?" she asked as they swayed together in the dim light.

"Hey, we went from Easter Sunday to today. That was nine or ten days, depending on how you count."

"We seriously went that long? Wow."

"Tell me about it. Ready for bed?"

"Very much so." Emily went to spread out some bedding on the loveseat while Hotch checked to make sure everything was locked up.

"Take the couch," Hotch insisted when he saw Emily beginning to nest on the loveseat.

"You're six-two. You'll won't be able to walk tomorrow if you sleep on the loveseat."

"I'll sleep on the recliner."

Emily knew it was no use arguing, so she settled in on the couch and watched Hotch try to get comfortable in the recliner. If it weren't for the fact that she felt terrible for him, it would have been amusing. "Mind if I turn the TV on for a bit?" she asked.

"Not at all."

Emily quickly turned the brightness and volume down on the screen, her head protesting against the light and sound. She surfed for an episode of Seinfeld they hadn't seen in a while and set the remote down. Then she lay there for almost an hour, waiting for sleep to overtake her, but every time she closed her eyes, she remembered seeing Hotch during her flashback and seeing how helpless and guilty he looked. This coupled with her nerves still running high spelled out what she figured would be a relatively sleepless night. She craned her neck to glance over at Hotch and caught him staring at her. With a tired (but not tired enough) sigh, she sat up, opened up her blankets, and patted the space beside her.

"You sure?"

Emily nodded certainly.

"What if the boys find us?"

"We'll tell them we fell asleep watching TV." Emily knew this explained nothing in terms of how the boys were to handle seeing them cuddled up together, which she was sure they'd be doing. But right now, she needed Hotch too much to worry about the consequences. And she hoped she could have him this time without her trauma coming back to haunt her. The fact that she couldn't commit to a chaste relationship with him, knowing that the trigger had been completely innocent, was bad enough. Sitting on the couch with him right now was even a bargain. Unless and until she got better, they would have to remain friends and nothing more. Of that much she was certain. She knew that had been her choice from the get-go, but knowing that it wasn't really a choice anymore made the result extremely frustrating for her.

Hotch joined her, pulling the coffee table closer to the couch so they could prop their feet up on it. He let Emily wrap the blankets around the both of them this time and took things one step at a time, first moving closer, then gliding his hand back and forth across her back, cupping her opposite shoulder, waiting for her to lean against him and use his chest as a pillow again, and snaking his hand underneath her arm to wrap it around her waist. The entire process took half an hour, during which neither of them spoke.

"Promise you'll tell me if you start to feel at all uncomfortable with this, all right?" His chin lay upon her head and his words traveled from his throat and through her skin.

"I promise."

"This is risky. You're sure?"

"I'm sure."

"How are you feeling for now?"

Emily found Hotch's hand that lay on her stomach and intertwined their fingers, her body tingling when he squeezed her hand in response. "Considering what happened a little bit ago, oddly, I feel safe." None of the same actions that had her ready to sleep with him not long ago had the same effects now. The sensuality was gone, but Emily knew that was probably only temporary. For now, being held by him, instead of making her want him in another way, just made everything a little less scary.

"The pills helping at all?" Hotch asked. "Honest answer."

"Not really, but thanks for trying. What happened with Jessica, by the way? You just said you acted like a dick but you didn't say how."

"Don't worry about that right now. Is there anything I can do to help you sleep?" He laid his lips upon her hair.

Emily clutched the edges of the covers and wrapped their bodies up more snugly. "This."

**A/N: Reviews are love (please leave one)!**


	65. Flashback of a Flashback

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

Light was pouring into the living room when Emily opened her eyes. She was surprised she'd slept through the night—even more surprised to find that she was still nestled comfortably into Hotch's chest, the both of them still bundled up. At some point during the night, or gradually, perhaps, they'd sunk down into the couch together. Emily's legs felt stiff as a board from lying across the coffee table all night. She didn't even want to think about how much her back would hurt when she got up. Listening for noise upstairs and hearing nothing, she pulled slowly away from Hotch.

She should have known from the lack of slow, even breathing that Hotch was already awake. "You awake?" he whispered.

"Yeah." Her voice came out dry and cracked. She cleared her throat and moved further away from Hotch, pushing the coffee table away with her feet.

"Sleep okay?" he asked, following her in the epic task of getting up after sleeping with their backs bent against the couch for so long. His cell phone rang from upstairs.

"Yeah, thanks." Emily stretched and yawned at the same time while Hotch somewhat struggled to the stairs to get to his phone. She needed to do the same, as she had to call in to work, so she followed closely behind him.

"My alarm," Hotch explained to Emily, uttering another apology to his brother before shutting his bedroom door. "Can you get Jack up and ready once you're ready? I'll call around and see if I can get you an appointment somewhere."

"I can call," Emily objected.

"I have a few really good psychiatrists I consulted with at the BAU. Why don't you let me?"

Emily saw the despair in Hotch's eyes. "Listen." She stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Stop looking at me like that."

"I can't help it. You know me."

"I do. But I am okay."

Hotch wanted to tell Emily how much she'd scared him the night before, how worried he was because they didn't know why the flashbacks had returned. But Emily already felt guilty enough.

—

"Henry, do you want to stay home or come with us?" Hotch crouched down to talk to him.

"Mommy."

"You want to go with Mommy? You wouldn't rather stay here and play?"

Henry shook his head. "Mommy."

"Okay, well, I guess that just leaves you with the baby," Hotch said to Sean, who was currently trying to figure out the most comfortable way to hold the baby. Hotch was surprised Sean had insisted on staying for at least part of the day. He'd seemed ambivalent about children in general when he'd arrived just the day before, but had taken to all three of them better than Hotch ever could have imagined. Jack wouldn't talk to his father the entire ride to school, upset that he wasn't allowed to stay home and spend more time with his uncle. Even Sean had tried to convince Hotch to let Jack take the day off from school. "You're sure you're okay with this?" Hotch asked one last time. "We can take both of them."

"Aaron, get out of here. I can handle a baby for a couple of hours. I'll call you if I need anything."

"If you insist. Thanks again." Hotch put a pair of shoes on Henry and went outside, where Emily was already waiting in the car. Hotch sensed that she felt a bit embarrassed around Sean after all the commotion she'd caused the night before. She'd been rather avoidant of Sean since he'd cooked the family a hot breakfast before Hotch drove Jack to school. When she'd told Hotch she would wait in the car, he hadn't said a word. "Henry wanted to come with you," Hotch said cheerily to Emily as he buckled Henry in. He clearly hoped this would bring a smile to her face.

"Did you now?" she asked, poking her head between the two front seats and smiling warmly at Henry while Hotch started the car. "Is Sean really okay on his own with the baby?" she then asked Hotch.

"Says he is," Hotch answered as he pulled out of the driveway. "Besides, it's not that hard. Don't worry about it."

Emily nodded vaguely and watched the street signs whir past them on their way across town. She'd talked Hotch out of running the entire show that morning and finding her a psychiatrist (she'd found an available one on her own after a dozen calls), but she hadn't been able to talk him into letting her drive. And she hadn't really tried very hard, knowing that, since she'd stopped responding to Hotch during her flashback the night before, she shouldn't be driving just yet. It was a good thing that the SUV seemed to fit all of them just fine. Even if she walked out of the psychiatrist's office with a prescription, she knew it would be a while without flashbacks before Hotch was comfortable with her driving. She tried to appreciate his help, though, instead of dwelling on how she was losing control over more than just her thoughts.

**September 2010**

"You okay?" Morgan asked Emily as they pulled up to their hotel in El Centro, California. They'd been investigating the murders (and sexual assaults) of ten women in the area. Emily hadn't protested being sent to morgue to take a look at the bodies, and now she was regretting it. She hadn't had a flashback as a result—not yet—but she'd felt anxious the entire day and knew she wasn't on her game. The medication she'd gotten a month ago was conveniently at home. Not that she took it, anyway. One low dose of Xanax knocked her out, and though it did drive the anxiety away somewhat, it never worked completely, and she just felt lethargic afterward. Since then, she'd just been toughing it out.

"I'm fine. Just tired." They walked up to the second floor together and said goodnight. It was as if Emily was actually capable of holding the flashback at bay until an appropriate time, but she knew this wasn't the case. She was merely lucky that the flashback waited to start until right after she'd shut her hotel room door.

She wished she'd paid more attention to her psychiatrist's advice about how to stop the flashbacks. She'd made the appointment mainly to get the drugs, not interested in any therapy that she considered "fluffy." Now she was without either one, though she could figure out easily enough on her own that distraction was key.

But she had no one to distract her. The rest of the team was turning in after a long day. And not even Hotch knew about her flashbacks. She'd had quite a few directly after her abduction, but once she got back to spending time with Hotch, once he'd known what had happened, once his protective mode had kicked in, the flashbacks had gone away. She hadn't had a single one again, not until their first sexual assault case after Hotch had officially retired. No one was there to give her a knowing, comforting look. Even though she'd always told Hotch that she didn't need his coddling, she realized now that it had gotten her through two years of this job. This job that she could possibly not handle on her own anymore. Not without him. Even though the flashbacks were only a few minutes long and she'd never blacked out or had one while on duty, she was worried—she'd gone from not having any for over two years, to having six in the span of two months. She certainly didn't blame Hotch for their return. How could he have known if she'd never told him? But there was no denying the fact that his absence was playing a central role in all of this.

As the images seared the insides of her eyelids, the wicked voices echoed in her mind, and the musky the smell invaded her nostrils, she picked up her phone. Not for the first time, she contemplated calling Hotch. Since his retirement party, they'd each made some non-committal attempts at making plans after they'd made some very halfhearted apologies to one another. These plans always managed to fall through, so they hadn't seen each other at all. As Emily had come to see it, this was probably for the best. His leaving had clearly had something to do with her, otherwise he wouldn't have been so afraid to discuss his retirement plans with her. If he didn't want to put forth the effort to spend time with her, she supposed that had to mean something.

But somehow, she knew he hadn't stopped caring. He'd walked away, yes. But whatever his reasoning was behind those actions, the thought that he still cared about her—in some sense—wouldn't stop nagging at her. Maybe if she called and said she was having trouble dealing with the sexual crimes the BAU had been investigating, that would be enough. Maybe he would jump right back in. Maybe that would make him realize how much she still needed him.

But did she want him back as a crutch or as a friend? If he only came back into her life because he felt obligated to tend to her issue that no one else knew about, then would he really be coming back? Would things ever be the same? She desperately wanted for things between the two of them to repair themselves, not to be forced. She didn't want him just as the cure for what ailed her. She didn't want him to feel like he was supposed to be there for her. She wanted him to _want_ to be there. She wanted things back to the way they were six months ago, when Hotch had seemed happy and at peace with her. Hell, even right before he'd announced his retirement just over three months ago, even though things had already started to become awkward between them. She would take that. But _this_ was torture. It was terrifyingly lonely to relive the worst day and a half of her life, knowing that nobody else knew what she was experiencing. She'd forgotten how agonizing it was to lose control over her thoughts like this.

All she had to do to alleviate at least some of the anxiety, she knew, was to get him on the phone. Hear his voice. She wouldn't even have to tell him she was reliving it all, woudn't have to tell him about the flashbacks at all. She could just tell him they were looking for a sexual assailant and he'd know immediately why she needed him. And he wouldn't hang up. As uncomfortable as it made him, he'd stay on the phone with her as long as she needed him to, his voice soothing her more than he'd ever intended or would ever know.

_Why are you making this so complicated?_ she asked herself. _Just call him._

Her finger was almost touching his name in her contacts list when the feeling hit. The feeling of everything around her melting into nothing, and her world becoming the one she'd experienced over two years ago. She didn't feel her phone drop from her hand, or hear it hit the floor. She only felt the things she thought she'd forgotten.

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

Hotch checked his watch. Emily had been in for fifty minutes now. He sat in a corner, watching Henry use the chair next to him as a race track for a toy car they had been smart enough to bring inside for him. "Mommy!" he squealed in delight when Emily entered the reception area, tucking a piece of paper into her purse.

Her red, watery eyes smiled at Henry as he ran over to her, meeting her halfway. "Hi, baby," she said softly through a stuffy nose.

Hotch rose from his seat and watched the interaction between Emily and Henry. "Pick me up," Henry demanded, but in such a cute, innocent manner that neither Hotch nor Emily could reprimand him for it. Not this time.

"You got it," Emily said, sniffling and scooping Henry up into her arms.

"You is sick," Henry informed her.

She laughed behind the tears that still rimmed her eyelids as Hotch led them out of the office suite and back to their vehicle. "Yeah, honey. That's why we went to the doctor, because I have a cold. Now I can go get some medicine for it." She felt Hotch's protective eye on her, but she didn't feel like meeting it yet. She waited until Henry was buckled in and his door was shut.

"How did it go?" Hotch asked as they stood out in the sun, a light breeze cooling their faces.

Emily shrugged and walked into Hotch's arms, behind Henry's door so that he didn't have to be aware that anything was wrong. "What you'd expect, I guess," she said, her wrists linked together behind his neck.

"You didn't make another appointment. Not a good fit?" he asked while he smoothed his hands up and down her back.

"No, she was fine, but I just needed to get out of there."

"Okay. Let's hit the pharmacy and get home."

"Just one more thing," Emily said, not letting go of Hotch when he moved to walk away.

Hotch desperately needed to let go right now, or risk losing it. He wanted to keep it together for Emily, but the way she clung to him made that nearly impossible. "What's that?"

"I'm so glad you're in my life again. I don't know why it's flaring up again, but thank you for understanding."

"You don't need to thank me."

"Stop it. You've been more helpful and supportive than I ever could have hoped for. You need to let me acknowledge that." She backed away a smidge and placed a soft kiss on Hotch's cheek before resting her own against it. "So thank you."

"You're more than welcome. Anything else we need to go over?" he asked lightly. "I want to know how your appointment went if you're willing to share, but I'm assuming that's not parking lot material."

Emily laughed under her breath and nodded. "Yeah. Tonight, once the kids are in bed. Let's just try and salvage the rest of today, though."

**A/N: Please leave a review! **


	66. Resurfacing

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

"Before we go in," Hotch said when he pulled into the driveway after their stop at the pharmacy, "Sean hasn't been nosy at all. The opposite, in fact. But if he shifts gears and wants to know what's going on, how much can I tell him?"

"If you want to tell him it's PTSD, that's fine. I'd rather he not know the nature of the trauma, if that's all right with you," Emily said after some thought.

"Emily, this is completely up to you. It's your experience. If you don't want me to tell him anything. I'm sure he'll understand."

"But he's family. And he really went beyond the call of duty last night and today. If he wants to know something, I don't really mind."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Let's get inside. It's just about lunchtime. You hungry, Henry?"

"Yup!"

As Hotch feared, the next interactions between Emily and Sean were equally awkward. She tried to thank him for all of his help, but he insisted it was nothing. This didn't keep her from being extremely self-conscious about the whole ordeal, though. She wished Sean could have met her and the children under less hectic circumstances, in retrospect. Of course, she hadn't foreseen having two flashbacks while he was in the house, but she still regretted her and Hotch's decision to cram all the family drama into one night.

"How long do you think you'll be staying?" Hotch asked Sean as he cleaned up after lunch. "For dinner, maybe? You're under no obligation to cook, by the way."

"I suppose I can stick around."

"In that case, I hope no one minds if I lie down and nap with Henry for a bit," Emily said.

"Go for it. You're tired," Hotch urged.

Emily smiled at Sean and Hotch and carried Henry upstairs with her. Henry found the prospect of cuddling up with Emily for his nap utterly thrilling. Emily waited until Henry was asleep in her arms, under her covers, before letting herself drift off, thanking God that she could do so easily.

Meanwhile, the Hotchner brothers sat out on the front porch, taking in the sunshine, not knowing how long it would last, given that it was spring. "Mind if I light up?" Sean had asked on their way out.

"As long as it stays outside, we're fine with it," Hotch had answered.

Sean now took a long drag from his cigarette and offered his brother the pack. Hotch waved him off politely, as appealing as a smoke sounded right now. He rather liked that being his and Emily's indulgence, and he knew better than to think that them being out of cigarettes would mean they were kicking the habit.

"Listen, I know we're not really what anyone would consider close," Sean said, "so I really don't have a right to know, but if you ever want to talk about what the hell's going on between you two, just know that I'm kind of dying of curiosity. Normally I don't give a damn about other people's relationships, but maybe it's just how weird this living arrangement is that has me wondering what possessed you to, well, go in on it."

Hotch sighed. Next to him sat his formerly estranged brother, who was suddenly interested in being in his and his son's life once more. He'd been more accepting of his and Emily's situation than Emily's family had been, not that that was such a major feat, and he seemed to be interested in playing uncle to all three children, not just his biological nephew. Hotch didn't know if it was fair to keep him in the dark. Not if he wanted to know. "We have a complicated history."

"Is that all I get?"

"What are you, an old bitty?" Hotch asked with a grin.

"Like I said, you don't have to tell me."

"But I should. The gist of it, anyway."

"I'm listening."

Hotch wanted to formulate a plan, an outline, regarding exactly how much he should tell his brother, but he didn't even know where to begin. "We're technically just friends," he said, finally. "And we have been for a long time. And, long story short, we both wish that could be different, but it can't."

"So you both want more, and you both _know_ you both want more, and you just, what, accept that?"

Hotch shrugged. "At just about every point in time, there's been something standing in the way. It's shifted from me not being ready, to me walking away because of that, to her not trusting me, and rightfully so, to her not wanting to risk it because of the kids already being in a broken home, and finally to her being afraid of…us…for other reasons." Even though Hotch felt he still barely knew his brother, it felt nice to sum things up for him, if for no other reason than it helped Hotch outline things for himself.

"Do those _other reasons_ have anything to do with what's been going on since last night?"

"Yes, but I think that's as specific as I'd like to get." Hotch left out the fact that he had Emily's blessing to give more information. It didn't feel right to him. With or without her permission, sharing even the fact that she'd been through a traumatic experience and was having flashbacks seemed like a betrayal of her trust. Besides, he had a feeling that if Sean wasn't told the trauma was sexual in nature, he'd connect the dots on his own, already having been told that these issues were what was keeping Emily from feeling secure in a relationship. By telling Sean even a little bit of information, Hotch feared he would be telling him everything.

"Fair enough."

"I'm glad that you care enough to want to know, though."

"Well, thanks for trusting me enough to open up a little."

"I really am glad you came out, too, you know. Things went a lot better than I expected, to be honest. I mean, disregarding all the drama from last night, with all the people in the house. I didn't think it would be this easy for us to reconnect."

"Me neither. I actually had an exit strategy for last night if I needed it."

Hotch chuckled. "I won't even ask." After a long silence, he asked, "Do you think you could make it out here on a semi-regular basis? Maybe once a month? Or we could take turns. I'm sure Emily and the kids wouldn't mind a weekend road trip here and there."

"My place is a little small for guests, so as long as you'd be all right staying in a hotel. But yeah, that sounds like a great idea."

—

"I feel like coffee. Want some decaf?" Hotch offered after he came downstairs from saying his goodnights to the boys and putting the baby to bed.

"Sure." Emily didn't even bother turning on the television, knowing that Hotch wanted to discuss how her appointment had gone. And she certainly couldn't blame him. He deserved a report after all he'd done for her. She couldn't help but feel guilty for not showing more gratitude toward Sean, whom she'd hugged and thanked before he left. She wondered if he'd felt as uncomfortable as she had throughout the day. _Probably not_, she told herself.

Hotch left a polite distance between himself and Emily after handing her her coffee. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," Emily sighed. "How about you? You seem to be taking it just as hard as I am."

Telling the truth wouldn't make Emily feel any better, so Hotch said, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me. How did your appointment go? What was it like? If you don't mind me asking, of course."

Emily offered Hotch a warm, empathetic smile. "Of course I don't mind. She asked what brought me in, you know, the usual. I told her about the flashbacks I've had recently, and then she asked if I'd had more before that, so I told her about all of them, and then she asked me to describe the actual event to her. That was fun."

"I can imagine." Hotch knew full well he'd get a very stern "no" from Emily if he asked her to share the same details with him. Not only did she feel self-conscious about the disorder, but she clearly felt guilty about how much all of this was getting to Hotch. It was in his blood to protect the ones he loved, and he didn't have that power right now. A lack of control was something that ate him up just as much, if not more than, it did Emily. She was fully aware of his pain, and was only talking to him now about her appointment because she knew he'd go crazy if he didn't get at least some information.

"Then I asked her how to prevent the flashbacks, and she said I need to learn my triggers. That's laughable, since I was there for a day and a half and as a result, a trigger can be something as simple as you putting a blanket around me—which, by the way, was something Dave did once you guys found me. I mean, _anything_ could be a trigger. So much happened. You'd think just taking my clothes off and putting them on every day would be a trigger, but it's not—"

"You undressed and redressed yourself?" Hotch asked, feeling the physical symptoms come on already.

Emily cringed, then shook her head. "I didn't mean to share that. Don't worry about that, really. It's never been a trigger. It's just part of what I experienced."

"Just because it isn't a trigger doesn't mean it wasn't unpleasant. Is it in your flashbacks?"

Emily took a long, deep breath and closed her eyes. "I shouldn't have said that. Please, forget I said it."

Hotch's tone went from gentle and understanding to impatient. "How can I forget something like that? Did they make you do it repeatedly?"

"Stop."

"Emily, just tell me. I need to know."

"No, you don't. You just said yourself that you can't forget something like that. Why on _earth_ would I tell you more?" Emily was growing equally impatient, not to mention angry with herself.

"You don't understand what it's like on my side, Emily. Sitting and watching while you suffer is bad enough. Not knowing what you're going through just makes it worse."

"I get it, I really do, but trust me. Knowing the details…that's something you can't forget—you were right about that. Knowing what they did to me is just going to make you suffer that much more if and when I ever have another flashback and you're there to see it. Just…no. Please trust me on this." Upon concluding her diatribe, Emily realized she was almost yelling at Hotch. "I'm just trying to protect you," she said in a very hushed tone.

"I'll get it out of you someday."

"Aaron. Stop it. I'm dead serious."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you angry."

"I know. I'm sorry if I sound like a bitch, but I think we need to establish that ground rule if we're going to talk about this. No asking for details about what happened. I'm sorry I slipped up. But can we agree on this and move forward?"

His body still tense, Hotch tried to show in his eyes that he would accept the conditions. "Okay. Agreed. So you talked about triggers?"

Emily nodded. "It wasn't a terribly productive conversation, just because so many different things happened that, like I said, there's no telling what could be a trigger, and some things that I think might serve as triggers don't at all. So I asked her if there was a way I could stop a flashback once it started, which is something I really wasn't interested in the other times I sought treatment. I thought that kind of stuff was just fluffy. The first time, when you made me go right after you found out, I refused medication, just because I was only having flashbacks at night, and never when I was on duty, so it wasn't that big of a deal, and I didn't really feel like getting addicted to anything. And like I said, I didn't buy into the whole therapy thing. Then when I started going again last year, the flashbacks were bad enough that I tried to go on Xanax, but that just made me crash, and it didn't work very well."

"You went back for more treatment last year?"

Emily cursed at herself for slipping up yet again. She was forgetting how much Hotch didn't know. "Yeah."

"You said your last flashback until recently was right after last Christmas?"

"Yeah. Actually, now that I think about it, it was before Christmas. It was before JJ's party."

"When did they start back up in the first place?"

"That's not important."

Hotch rolled his eyes and raked his hands through his hair. "It is to me."

"July." Emily knew exactly why, and hoped Hotch wouldn't put two and two together. But he did.

"After I left?"

"Yes. But it wasn't your fault. I was just overly stressed about your leaving. I let it get to me too much."

"How could you not let it get to you? I was an asshole."

"Aaron, stop."

"I told you things didn't have to be different between us, but that wasn't true. I'm pretty sure I knew I was lying when I said that."

"I told you I've forgiven you. Why are you still beating yourself up over this?"

"Because now I know what you meant when you said you'd trusted me and I'd let you down. I was the only one who knew about the abuse, so I was your support system, and when I left, you didn't have that anymore. I don't know why I hadn't thought of that."

Emily sucked back the tears and for up from the couch. "I can't do this anymore. This isn't helping either one of us. It's just dredging up things that you're better off forgetting or not knowing in the first place."

**November 2010**

Yet again, Emily seemed blessed enough to make it back to her hotel room in Richmond before the effects of the BAU's current case took a firm grip on her. She'd walked into what appeared to be a sexual torture chamber. She had her medication with her this time, and its drowsing effects wouldn't be entirely unwelcome since she knew she was sleep-deprived, but she only had a few hours to sleep. The pills had on occasion knocked her out cold for six hours and given her a raging headache afterward, so she could rarely justify taking them during cases. Her doctor insisted it was the fastest acting, though, so she'd stuck with it, but started considering seeing someone who listened a bit better.

"_You gonna cry now? Huh? We haven't even gotten started yet. You might wanna save those tears for later."_

Emily groaned and lay back in bed, spreading her arms out, as if maximizing the exposed surface area on her body would somehow force the demons out more quickly. But the images were too detailed, the feelings too real. Far too real. More real than ever before. She wondered if she should even bother trying to call Hotch. If she blacked out again, he would have no choice but to call someone else on the team and tell them to come help her, and her cover would be blown.

She considered flushing her phone down the toilet just to keep from calling him. She hadn't called on his birthday, and though she knew he wasn't nearly petty enough to hold something like that against her, or to care about it at all, she needed every reason she could get to keep herself from dialing. _That's right. You didn't even call to wish him a happy birthday. You don't deserve his help._

But the memories of the torture started to become almost worse than the torture itself had been. She felt as if someone was now pinning her down to her hotel bed, much like her captors had pinned her down countless times. She shot up and, panting, pulled her phone out of her pocket with hands so aquiver that she was afraid she wouldn't be able to find Hotch's name in time. Miraculously, she got her phone to ring, then waited for that sweet moment where he would pick up and, even though he probably wouldn't want to talk to her, he would, and she could pull herself back into the present.

Two rings in, Emily got frightened. Hotch always picked up right way, no matter how little he wanted to talk to the person on the other end. She'd witnessed it several times when Haley had called him.

The tears began to roll down after the third ring. After the fourth ring, she reluctantly accepted the unpleasant truth.

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

"How can we put the past behind us if I don't even know what our past _is_?" Hotch retorted, following Emily into the kitchen, where she walked for no other purpose than to get away from him.

"Because all of this is no longer important. Listen, I already worked it out with the psychiatrist. Yes, the flashbacks came back because my support system was gone, even if my support system was as simple as being around somebody who knew the gist of what I'd been through. We figured that out. But I'm _not upset with you._ So _please _stop blaming yourself. _I_ didn't even foresee it happening. I didn't realize it was such a big deal to have someone who knew. I had no idea the flashbacks would come back when you left. How could _you_ have known the impact it would've had if _I_ didn't even know?"

"It's not as simple as me pleading ignorance. Regardless of whether I knew what would happen when I left, I _did_ leave, and it _did_ happen."

"And you need to let it go," Emily said firmly.

"Is this the reason you left?"

"What?"

Hotch wet his lips and rolled his head back. "Did you leave the BAU because the flashbacks started getting in the way of your work? Did you have one on the job?"

"No." Emily gave Hotch her best poker face. He couldn't know that, too.

"You're lying."

"_What_? Aaron, come on. I mean it. I left because it just didn't feel like a calling to me anymore. That was why I joined the team in the first place, and I didn't feel that anymore." She tried to look nonchalant, leaning back against the fridge and crossing her arms loosely.

"So you chose the desk job you have right now instead? Look me in the eye and tell me you didn't leave the BAU because your flashbacks got in the way."

Pinching the bridge of her nose and looking down at the floor, Emily said, "Ugh, you win. But how is this helping? Really, I don't get it. It was beyond your control. Shit happens."

"No, you're wrong. It was _completely_ within my control."

Emily growled and threw her hands up in the air. "Then forgive yourself!" She became suddenly aware of the fact that her cheeks were soaked. When she looked at Hotch, she could see that he hadn't shed a tear. He was too angry with himself to cry. His face was flushed, his brow furrowed, his fists clenched, his teeth grinding, but his eyes were dry.

"Daddy?"

Hotch and Emily both froze at the sound of Jack's voice. Hotch turned to see what Emily could already see from where she was standing: a very scared little boy peeking through the entryway into the kitchen.

"What's wrong, Jack?" Hotch asked, his voice and countenance softening immediately.

"Why are you and Mommy fighting?"

Emily knew her tear-soaked face would do nothing to help matters, so she turned around and ducked into the fridge, pretending to look for something.

"Oh, no, we're not fighting, buddy. Come on, let's go back to bed." Hotch reached out for Jack's hand. Jack held on, turning his head to look at Emily as his dad led him upstairs.

"Why were you were yelling at each other?" he asked naively.

"Sometimes big people don't agree on everything. That's all. But we're not mad at each other, okay?"

"Okay," Jack said, crawling back into bed.

"I'm sorry we woke you up. Goodnight again. I love you." Hotch brushed Jack's hair from his forehead and laid a kiss there.

"Love you too."

Hotch shut the door on his way out and found Emily still waiting in the kitchen. She had a napkin balled up in her hands, obviously just having tried to run damage control. "Sorry," she said softly. "Is he okay?"

"Yeah, he's fine. Are you?"

"I'll be fine when you stop punishing yourself."

"It's not that easy," Hotch said.

"Then try. Really hard. You don't need to dwell on this. If I had stayed with the BAU, we wouldn't be here. If JJ and Will had still died, she wouldn't have left the kids to me, because I'd be working eighty hours a week. Whatever happened to the kids, you and I would probably still be avoiding each other. At least this way, I have you here with me."

"None of this would be relevant if I hadn't left."

Emily sighed in defeat. "What do you need me to say to convince you that you can move on?"

"I don't think there's anything you can say."

"Fine, then can I _do_ something?"

"Get better." Hotch said this with such timidity that Emily knew Hotch wasn't putting pressure on her. Instead, it was his way of expressing his unending support, his intention to help her do what he was asking of her.

"That's what I'm trying to do," she murmured before holding out her arms and approaching him. His embrace melted away the tension instantly.

"I know," he muttered into her hair. He batted away the tears that finally welled up behind his eyes and stood there, holding her, for a good amount of time. "Can we go back to you telling me about your appointment? I want to hear the rest."

Emily laughed quietly and nodded against Hotch's shoulder. "Yeah. Let's go sit down again." She waited for him to sit on the couch so that she could sit close to him, to reiterate the fact that he had nothing about which to feel guilty.

"So, did she give you any advice on stopping the flashbacks, or at least keeping from blacking out?"

"She said I need to find ways to ground myself. Try and shock my body somehow, like sticking my hands in a sink full of ice, or even putting my face in it. Smelling something strong, things like that. I guess it's supposed to yank me back into the present."

"That makes sense."

"Yeah." Emily clasped her hands together between her knees. "And…I think that…" She trailed off and sighed.

"You think that what?"

"I think that I should maybe not depend on you so much. You might not always be around when I have them. Listening to you talk does help, and I appreciate it more than I can say, but If I get used to going to you for help every time I have a flashback..."

"And if I'm not around…I get it. I understand." Hotch tried not to sound hurt, tried not to reveal that this just made him more angry at himself for leaving.

"It has nothing to do with me not trusting you. I know what you're thinking. I don't think you're going to leave. It's just a fact—the next time I have a flashback, we might not be in the same place. That's all. Okay?"

Hotch nodded somberly, hoping he could fool Emily with such a lazy gesture. He didn't have the resources left to convince her he was coping in a healthy way. Whether it was because she bought his ruse or because she didn't have the energy to fight him anymore, she let the matter go.

—

Hotch's ability to fall asleep without that big of a fight that night surprised him. He awoke a few hours later, though, with the nagging feeling that something wasn't right. Whenever he had this feeling, he couldn't help but check on the household. The boys' room was still dark, but Emily's light was on. He knocked softly on the door she always left ajar for the boys should they need her.

"Yeah?"

Hotch stepped in and squinted against the bright light. Emily sat under the covers, a book open in front of her. "What're you doing awake?" he asked groggily.

Emily shrugged. "Just couldn't sleep."

Hotch looked at her with skepticism. "Just because, or are you having another flashback?" When Emily didn't answer, just looked down at her book again, he leaned against her dresser and crossed his arms. "Emily."

"Flashback," she admitted.

"For how long?"

"I honestly don't know. I stopped keeping track of the time."

Hotch felt as if he were always taking two steps forward and one step back, and so was Emily. He felt his heart breaking all over again. "So much for therapy."

"I think it was the rehashing of all the events that just made it hard for me to get to sleep. It kept popping in and out of my brain here and there today, but it never turned into a full flashback. And when I tried to go to sleep, I just got too stressed about it and it escalated."

"Me fighting with you earlier probably didn't help."

Emily laughed breathily. "That was an argument, not a fight. And I think it was a healthy argument. One that we probably needed to have."

"Regardless, did you try any of those grounding techniques?"

"There's a sink full of ice in the kitchen. Didn't work. I tried sniffing just about everything I could find in the house, even my entire perfume collection. I pinched myself forty times. I took a cold shower. I dug out my iPod and turned the volume all the way up on the headphones." She stopped shrugged resignedly. "Maybe I just don't have the right attitude. I'm sure there's a certain amount of buy-in required with this stuff. Me thinking that it's all foolish hocus pocus probably didn't help."

"What about your medication?"

"It's only making me tired, but I can't sleep because of the flashback. It's just making it worse."

"How bad is it?"

"I don't know, not good?" Emily said, sounding annoyed.

"Turn on your lamp," Hotch said gently, getting an odd look from Emily. But she obeyed. He shut the door, turned out the overhead light and approached the bed slowly, wanting to give Emily the chance to object if she wanted to. Either she had no objection, or didn't have the nerve to voice it—she set her book on her nightstand and lay down while Hotch climbed in under the covers on the empty side of the bed and lay on his back. Under the warmth of the sheets, he found her clammy hand and brought it over her chest, gently leading her closer. Before she acquiesced, she reached to her side and turned off the lamp, cloaking them in darkness. "Get comfortable," Hotch said, waiting for Emily to lie against him.

The touch of Hotch's hand against her back was becoming quite familiar. Heat radiated from the spot he touched while she curled up in his waiting arm. Reaching her top arm across his chest, she found his free hand and held it loosely.

"You don't have to do this," she said, all too late.

"Shh. Just relax."

"Okay," Emily breathed, making a sincere effort. She closed her eyes, trying to picture what it must look like to see her and Hotch lying together like lovers, in an attempt to ward off the far less happy images. She soaked in the sensation of his hand still brushing lazily back and forth across her back, focused on the steady rise and fall of his chest, where her cheek now lay. She had the unshakable feeling that what they were doing was wrong, toxic for their friendship, just like last night, but she also couldn't help but wonder if maybe this was what Hotch needed. Even if it would be bad for him in the long run, she hoped that for now, it eased his own pain.

"Just focus on where you are now," came his low, smooth voice. "You're right here, at home. With me. Jack and Henry are sleeping in the next room. Charlotte's across the hall."

Emily nodded against the soft cotton of Hotch's t-shirt. She took in a deep breath through her nose, drawing in the scent of his lingering cologne.

"Charlotte's getting big for all the clothes she already had. I think maybe you should call up Garcia and do a little shopping. No trying to be sexist, but I think you could use an excuse to get out of the house and spend some time with her."

"That sounds like a good idea." His scent, the touch of his hand, the feel of his body against hers, and the sound of his voice all had a gradual lessening effect on the less pleasant sensations she was experiencing. Hotch holding her became more and more the foreground, her flashback the background. For the first time, it seemed like her flashback was coming to an unnatural end. This seemed counterintuitive, given that it had been by far her longest flashback, and any ending at this point should have seemed overdue. But it felt like the images were being forced away. Hotch went on about taking a family road trip to see Sean sometime soon while Emily felt herself starting to drift off. "I think I'm fine now," she mumbled.

"Is it over?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Go to sleep."

"You're staying?"

"Do you want me to?"

Emily grasped the edge of the covers and pulled them over their shoulders. As she did this, she turned around in his arms, lying on her side with her back to him. "That's the wrong question." Chills raced through every part of her body when his chest pressed against her back, when his hand touched her elbow, then traced her forearm until he'd reached her hand again. Locking fingers with her, he pulled their arms snug to her stomach and forgot about what anyone else might think.

**A/N: Please (pretty please) leave a review :)  
**


	67. Baby Clothes and a Breakthrough

"You've had _how_ many?" Garcia stopped Charlotte's stroller in the middle of the store, then immediately lowered her voice. "_Five flashbacks_?"

Emily hung her head in shame and led the way further into the store, fingering through any rack of pink baby clothing she crossed. "Yeah. I was debating just telling you at the end of the day, you know, so I didn't ruin it, but—"

"You telling me about what's going on in your life, good or bad, will never ruin my day, Emily Prentiss."

"But," Emily continued as if Garcia had said nothing, "I knew you would say something like that. So I figured I'd better let you know."

"Em, you're killing me," Garcia said, stopping Emily by the arm and pulling her in for a hug. "I wish you'd tell me these things as they happen. You know I'd be over in a flash, no matter what."

"I know, and that's why I don't tell you," Emily said pointedly, giving Garcia a quick squeeze and letting her go. "I'm getting by. I do need you, but these little talks once in a while kind of reenergize me. It's like some sort of extended-release pill. I'm okay."

"You're full of it, honey. How on earth are you coping? Those flashbacks must be horrendous. How long do they last?"

Emily shrugged. "It varies. Sometimes only a couple of minutes. Sometimes longer."

"What are they like? Unless talking about it might trigger another one, or it's too unpleasant. Then you don't have to tell me."

"It's just like when it happened. But I've found ways to kind of keep them at bay, or at least drown them out a little."

"You've seen a shrink, then?"

Emily eyed a white dress with a pink floral pattern in the baby's size, decided it would be cute for church, and hung it on the stroller handle. "Yeah. Hasn't helped much, though. I was seeing someone for a while last year, too, when they started up again—"

"Hang on. You were having them last year?" Garcia looked affronted. "You were having flashbacks from PTSD while you were working, and you just kept it to yourself?"

"Pen, it wasn't a big deal. The meds didn't work very well but when I did have a flashback, it was almost never while I needed to be working. I was always off duty. Once I had one on duty, I had to pretend I was getting a phone call and I went and hid out until it was over. That's when I knew I couldn't handle the job anymore. The sex crimes were too much of a trigger," she said in a hushed tone, aware of where they were.

"So you went, what, two and a half years having flashbacks?"

"No, no. I had them at first, after the incident, and I told Hotch about the incident—not about the flashbacks—but soon after that, they kind of just…stopped. When we were out on a sex crime case, he was really overprotective at first, making sure I wasn't around the bodies, giving me less gruesome tasks, and once that was no longer feasible, I eased back into my normal duties, but he always made sure to ask me if I was all right or just give me an understanding kind of look, and just that alone seemed to be enough to keep me sane."

"Ignoring how terribly romantic that is for now—don't think we won't be talking about that—when did they start back up? Wait, don't tell me. When he left?"

Emily nodded somberly as they weaved through more clothing racks. "Pathetic, right?"

"Not at all. It makes sense that something isn't so scary when someone who knows about it is around for you. He left, and suddenly things got scary again. It makes so much sense." Garcia sighed and removed her glasses, running her fingers under her meticulously decorated eyes.

"Oh, don't cry. Really, I'm okay."

"You're obviously not, and you weren't then, either. Emily, seriously, why didn't you tell someone? Me or JJ? It's not like there's some sort of statute of limitations on being able to come to your friends for help."

"I was hoping they'd just go away. And finally my stubbornness got the best of me. Once I had my flashback on duty, I started to seriously consider leaving, like I said. I put in my notice right after Christmas. I saw Hotch at JJ's Christmas party, just for a few minutes, and I realized how much I missed him, and then I realized my shrink was right. I should have told someone else. Once Hotch was gone, I didn't have anyone who knew."

"Then why didn't you change your mind? If you knew all you needed was a little bit of understanding, then maybe you could've told me or JJ about it and stayed on the team."

Emily shook her head and laid another outfit over a sleeping Charlotte's body to see if it would fit her lengthwise. "You know me. My mind was already made up. And it had already gotten to the point where I wasn't happy on the job, even when we weren't working sex crimes and I wasn't having flashbacks. I just started to resent the job, you know? I'd always been bothered by the fact that we couldn't save everyone, but my ordeal made that get to me even more. That and I still missed Hotch like crazy. I didn't really have anyone but myself to blame for the hell I went through while he was gone. I know I should have confided in someone. But I didn't, and it was just time for me to move on."

"So you stopped having flashbacks once you left, and they didn't start back up until this week?"

"Yeah. I don't know why they started up again. At first I thought it was stress from my parents at dinner, but that doesn't explain why I keep having them."

"But you said you've found ways of coping this time around, right?"

Emily' lips twitched at the corners. "Yeah, you're gonna love this." A breathy laugh escaped her lips.

"I hope you're serious, because now is _so_ not the time for joking."

"Oh, I'm not joking. Hotch will just talk about something involving the kids, something cute, to distract me, and it usually works. It doesn't make the flashbacks go away on its own, but it kind of drowns them out, like I was saying."

"Oh my gosh. That's so sweet it makes me want to cry again. I take it there's more? You said that doesn't work on its own. What else helps? Warm snuggles by the fireplace?"

"Not too far off, actually," Emily said, grinning at the pleasantly shocked look that spread across Garcia's face. "Today's Saturday, right?"

"Yeah."

"For the past…three nights, then, I've slept with him, completely literally. Tuesday night things got a little too heated, I had another flashback due to some completely random trigger, Hotch felt terrible, and he wanted to stay downstairs with me. That turned into sleeping together on the couch, but for the past two nights he's slept in my bed with me."

"Whoa. So you're…sleeping together…but you're not _sleeping_ together?"

"Yup."

"And he holds you and makes your flashbacks go away? Please don't tell me I'm dreaming. Please. Do. Not. I'll say it until the cows come home. I am team Hotch and Emily till the day I die, but I also totally support your decision to keep things platonic. But still, if you tell me I'm dreaming, I might kill you."

"Not dreaming," Emily said with a light laugh. "But it has to stop. I need to find a way to cope without him. So far, the flashbacks have only been at night, but I could have one when I'm alone with the kids. I've tried shocking my senses, like the doctor told me to, and I've tried the medication—"

"Blah blah blah. Simple solution."

"What?"

Garcia grasped Emily's shoulders and looked her softly in te eye. "Make sure he's never more than two minutes away from you."

Emily smiled vaguely. "If only."

"So he just…hops into bed with you? What do the boys think? Do they know?"

"They haven't seen. Nothing's happened while they were still awake. The other night, Hotch just randomly woke up and saw my light was on and came in. Last night, I'm pretty sure I heard his alarm go off two hours after he went to bed, like he wanted to make sure to get up and check in on me. And he did."

"And you were having one?"

"Yup."

"So he gets in bed with you, snuggles up with you, your flashback stops, or he at least distracts you from it, and he just…stays there?"

"I tell him when it's over, and he asks if I want him to stay."

"And what do you tell him?"

Emily took a deep breath, as if she were about to say something game-changing. "I can't bring myself to lie and tell him no."

Garcia laid both hands over her heart and pushed out her fuchsia lower lip. "Is this a…bad thing? Or is it a breakthrough?"

This question had crossed Emily's mind countless times over the past few days. She still hadn't been able to decide, but she knew which direction she wanted to lean. "I think it's a bit of both, to be honest."

"Why is it that every time I've talked to you in the past few months, you've killed me a little bit inside, yet I keep coming back for more? It's like a romance novel where it seems like the protagonists will never get together, but you keep reading because you _know_ that _someday_, they probably will. And that 'probably' is what keeps you going."

"Well, congratulations, avid reader. Your 'probably' just got a little more accurate."

"We need to check out of this store right now."

This wasn't the reaction Emily had been expecting. "Why?"

"Because I need to run around in circles and scream, and I think I might get funny looks if I did it in here."

"That's the Penelope Garcia I know and love."

Garcia's voice became panicky. "No, seriously. I might explode right now. Tell me how this works. You're still having flashbacks, and you're definitely in no condition to be _sleeping-_sleeping with him and 'forgetting' to take your birth control so you can make at least one more beautiful baby for Auntie Penelope to dote upon, but all of this is having you think that you'll probably end up happily ever after?"

"It's just getting harder and harder to pretend. I'm pretty sure that's all I've been doing—just pretending that I could go the next twenty years living with him but not wanting the rest of him. I've been doing a lot of thinking the past few days and I think I've come to the conclusion that it's just stupid to think I won't end up with him someday."

"Check-out counter. Now. I'm serious. But continue. When is someday? Today? Tomorrow?"

"I love you."

"Emily—"

"I really do."

"You know I never swear, but I'm about to. When is this someday of which you speak?"

"I think that's the point of saying 'someday,' Garcia. I don't know. I honestly don't." Emily obeyed Garcia's repeated orders and headed for the check-out line. "All I do know is that I want to be better before I take the next step with him. Like you said, I'm in no condition to…however you put it. I _want_ to, but I know that right now is not the right time to be thinking about that. I don't want to get into a relationship until I'm ready to _really_ get into a relationship. I don't want to have to put a bunch of boundaries on it from the get-go."

"You wanna go balls to the wall," Garcia said.

"Not necessarily balls to the wall," Emily murmured, unable to keep from giggling just a little as she laid her purchases on the counter. She waited until they were out of the store and headed back to the car to continue. "But I want to give him everything, not just little parts. He's damn near perfect, and ever since I fell for him, I haven't been able to picture myself with anyone else. When I think of myself getting married, it's always him waiting at the end of the aisle. There's really no doubt left in my mind that he's the one. But I want to put everything I have into it, or I at least want to be ready to try. And if I got into a relationship with him before I knew I could do that, I'd just be putting pressure on myself, and it probably wouldn't work. I'd probably never get to that point. I'd just psych myself out. And I want to give it time. Probably a few months flashback-free, just to be safe. So it'll be a while."

"You know what I am going to do?" Garcia said.

"I don't know, scream?"

"Well, that too. And cry, and start planning your wedding today. And have a heart attack. But I am going to find you the best shrink out there."

"That would be amazing, because the ones I've seen obviously aren't cutting it. But I suppose I'm performing some sort of conditioning on myself, letting him sleep with me when I have a flashback. It's like I'm rewarding my brain for having them. Which really means that I need to find a coping mechanism that doesn't involve him. Not only will this little habit of ours just perpetuate the flashbacks, it'll be leading him on."

"Bingo. But you should probably give it another night or two, just to be safe."

Emily laughed and detached the car seat from the stroller and handed it to Garcia, then proceeded to struggle with the task of figuring out how to fold the stroller, yet another task she always left to Hotch when they were with the baby together. "And he can't know that I'm considering a relationship. I need to be sure first. I've already made things bad enough. Now I have to figure out a way to tell him nicely that he's got to stay out of my bed. And starting tonight, or whenever I have my next flashback. The next time he tries to crawl into bed with me, I have to find a way to say no."

"Now _that_ I can't help you with. I have a question, though."

"Shoot."

"Do you think you can still snuggle with him when you're _not_ having a flashback? Like, just for the sake of cuddling with him and making me happy?"

"Okay, enough about me. How are things with Kevin?"

"Oh, no. There are much more pressing things. Even if you're done talking about how you live with the man of your dreams and have unlimited snuggling privileges, and you don't want to talk about what you'll name your future children, tomorrow is Mother's Day. For whatever reason, Kevin decided we're going on a daycation to Baltimore tomorrow, so I'm buying you a fancy pants lunch today. Sound good?"

Emily rolled her eyes and tossed the finally folded stroller into the back of the car. "As long as that's the last time you mention Mother's Day. And I'm serious."

"What? I can't hear you."

**A/N: Reviews of any kind simply thrill me. Please leave one!**


	68. Strawberries and Peas

**A/N: Thanks for all your lovely reviews! Enjoy.**

Emily awoke without a far too familiar arm wrapped around her. Either she'd rolled away from Hotch, he away from her, or he was gone. Not without a bit of creaking, she turned her neck and saw that she was alone in bed. She'd only made halfhearted efforts the day before to work their little issue into a conversation, and by the time bedtime had rolled around, she hadn't had the energy left to say anything. Her insomnia blended gradually into another flashback and Hotch, who had set an alarm yet again to check on Emily, had found her just as she was about to get out of bed and take one of her pills. Knowing full well that she was supposed to turn him away, she'd let him in, hoping that she would find alternative methods sooner rather than later.

Now alone, she shivered and pulled the sheets and blankets closer. She took in a deep breath and the aromas of maple and coffee took her over. A hot breakfast sounded amazing, but her toasty little nest—complete with the pillows that now wore Hotch's scent—was too comfortable to abandon. Her alarm clock told her she had a good half hour left before it would go off. Probably excited over the prospect of French toast for breakfast, the boys were already awake and could be heard with Hotch downstairs. She readily rolled over, scooting to the middle of the bed so she could take into her arms one of Hotch's pillows.

"Shhh," she heard outside her bedroom door. "We've gotta be quiet. If she's still sleeping, we don't want to scare her."

"I'm awake," Emily mumbled, poking her head out above the thick mess of blankets. "Hey, what's everyone doing up here?"

"Daddy, she's awake," Jack pointed out, bouncing in the doorway, still in his pajamas.

Hotch smiled warmly to Jack, but didn't appear in the doorway. All Emily could see were the boys. "I can see that. Okay, go ahead," Hotch said.

"Happy birthday!" Jack shouted, tearing into the room and leaping into Emily's bed.

"Oh, wow," Emily laughed, letting Jack snuggle into her arms. "That's not for a while, but thank you."

"It's _Mother's_ Day, Jack," Hotch corrected, finally stepping into view. Emily rolled her smiling eyes as she moved her tousled hair from her face. Hotch carried a tray, presumably full of the hot breakfast Emily had decided wasn't worth leaving her bed.

"Oh, right, Mother's Day. Happy Mother's Day," Jack said, climbing into Emily's lap. "C'mon, Henry!"

Emily's bed was too tall for Henry to get into on his own, which was just as well, as Hotch pointed sternly at Jack and to the floor. Reluctantly, Jack tumbled out of bed. "Ohh," Emily said with pity, "come here." She scooted to the edge of the bed and held her arms out for Jack again. "Thank you so much, sweetie." She littered a handful of kisses in his hair and left one on his cheek. Henry wedged his way in and giggled at the thankful affection that Emily gave him as well.

"Jack, did you bring up the present?"

"Present?" Emily asked Hotch reproachfully when the boys both raced to the stairs. Jack left Henry in the dust, but that didn't stop Henry from making his way down the steps anyway. She cringed when Hotch set the tray over her lap.

"The boys get hugs and kisses, and I get the stink eye?" Hotch asked lightheartedly.

"That's because they were only doing what you told them to do, and I can't fault them for that. If you hadn't told them, they wouldn't have known today was different than any other day."

"I can understand if you don't want the attention from me, but let the boys have fun with it."

Emily sighed. "No, I'm sorry, it's really sweet. It just feels…weird. In way that might not make sense to you."

Hotch knew he only had a moment before the boys would be back upstairs, so he kept things short. "No matter what title you give yourself when it comes to the kids, you need to know that you're appreciated."

Emily grabbed the cup of coffee, already prepared exactly to her liking, and took a sip. Her breakfast in bed also included French toast, syrup, bacon, and fruit. "I already know that. I know some moms rejoice in this day because the other three hundred and sixty-four days a year, they feel like no one cares. But I don't feel like I'm taken for granted or anything. Just the opposite."

"Well, give it time. It'll happen," Hotch said cheekily.

"Thanks for the warning. Please tell me you didn't go all out on a present, though."

Just then, the boys returned with a small wrapped package. Hotch left, presumably to get the baby, but instructed her to open it without him.

"What's this?" Emily said in wonderment. Jack gave Henry a boost onto the bed, and then followed him in.

"Open it!" Jack demanded.

"Yes, sir." Emily tore off the paper to find an eight-by-ten picture frame. She flipped it around and saw Jack, Henry, and Charlotte, all dressed up—now she remembered why Hotch had taken the kids out one Saturday, insisting upon them wearing their nice clothes, while she warned him about letting them get dirty.

"That's me, and that's Henry, and that's Charlotte," Jack pointed out.

"Oh my goodness. You all look so nice. Wow…" She didn't want to alarm Henry and Jack, so she choked her tears back and pulled them both close to her side for a hug. Henry found one of the strawberries on Emily's fruit plate to his liking, so he helped himself.

"Henry," Hotch scolded. He'd just reappeared in the doorway with Charlotte, who was awake, waving her arms, and kicking her legs. "Your breakfast is downstairs. Why don't you guys go eat? I already cut up your French toast. Do Henry's syrup for him, Jack." He helped Henry out of bed with one arm and watched with Emily as both boys hurried to eat their own food.

"Are you trying to kill me?" Emily said with a sniffle. "This is…I don't even know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. Happy Mother's Day." Hotch leaned over and kissed Emily's forehead. She smiled and rubbed his arm in return, stroking the top of the baby's head while she was at it.

"Thank you. Some of the ladies at work have been asking what the kids look like. I think I'll keep this on my desk."

"I figured you would." Hotch turned and moved to exit the room. "Enjoy your breakfast."

"Hey, wait, before you go. Emily unfolded her napkin and laid it across her lap. "There's something in my top dresser drawer for you." Hotch gave her a quizzical look. "Get it out."

Hotch slid open the drawer. "Thanks a lot for the underwear warning."

"Where else would my underwear go? At least it's clean."

"Oh, I wasn't complaining," Hotch said with a dirty smirk. He held up a small white envelope and eyed Emily inquiringly. She nodded.

"It's your Father's Day gift, but a little early, just because I figure if I waited until then to give it to you, you might not get to use it all."

Hotch shifted Charlotte to one arm and slid open the unsealed envelope.

"It's a gift card for some of the golf courses around here," Emily said offhandedly. "I figure I get my days out with Garcia, but you don't really get out. You should go out with Rossi

more. And you need a hobby."

"I need a hobby?" Hotch chuckled. "Well, thanks. I hope there's not a lot on here. I didn't really spend much on your gift."

"Oh, please. We both know it's not about that. There should be enough to last you the summer on there. Maybe you could make it your Saturday morning thing."

"That sounds like a fine idea. Expensive, though."

"Stop." Emily glared at Hotch until he smiled in resignation.

"Okay. Thank you. I'm gonna go eat with the boys before they cover the dining room in syrup."

"Wait, one more thing," Emily said, knowing that if she didn't say something now, she might not at all. "This is completely unrelated."

"Okay." Hotch leaned against the side of Emily's dresser and waited for Emily to think about what exactly she was going to say.

"We really can't do the you-sleeping-in-my-bed thing anymore. I promise I'll find another way to manage things. Garcia's going to find me the best help there is. You know her. She will. I'll get through this on my own. And it's not that I don't want your help, or that I'm too proud, so don't look at me like that. I just don't think it's going to help things in the long run." She tucked in her lips and waited for a response to Hotch.

"I know it's not the best thing. But I can't just sit by and watch you suffer. If there's anything I can do, it's hard to avoid doing it."

"I know it's hard. And I understand why, and I totally get why you want to make my pain go away. Honestly, I love that. But…maybe it would help if you don't check in on me. It's not like the flashbacks do me any physical harm. And I'm not a danger to anyone else. And let's face it, when you sleep in here, you get up to feed and change the baby in the middle of the night, and you come back to bed with me, even though I'm still asleep. I think that for both of us, this isn't just about the flashbacks. We need to be more careful. So I think it's just best if you just…" Emily couldn't end her sentence, so she picked up her fork instead and stabbed a piece of strawberry with it.

"I get it." A casual flick of his eyebrows made Emily hide her face in her hands.

"I don't know how else to say it. I'm sorry."

"No, you said it fine. I understand. But I need to get downstairs. Enjoy your breakfast," Hotch said softly; he closed Emily's door on his way out.

Emily sunk back into her pillows, resisting the urge to moan out loud at her own ineptitude. Her breakfast suddenly wasn't quite as appealing, but she ate it anyway.

—

"Flowers, too?" Emily asked when the family arrived home from church later that day.

"I think it's a law or something, isn't it?" Hotch said, more upbeat than he'd been since his and Emily's awkward conversation that morning.

"Well, that definitely makes it a much more heartwarming gift," she said dryly, picking up two vases on their way in. She put them on the counter, along with Jack's macaroni-covered Mother's Day themed picture. She still wasn't sure what the picture was that he had drawn, but that made it all the more precious to her. He ran upstairs to change out of his church clothes so he could go outside and play.

"If it helps, only one is from me. Don't know about the other one."

"Garcia," Emily said, reading the card in one of the bouquets. "Good thing I sent her some, too."

"For Mother's Day? Why?"

"She's a _god_mother. And practically my mother lately. Pull your head out of your—hey, speaking of flowers, I sent some to Jessica in your name."

"You did?"

"Yeah. Yes?" Emily looked down at Henry, who tugged on the hem of her skirt.

"Up," he said.

"What do you say?"

"Peas?"

"I don't think I can say no to that." She hoisted him up onto her hip and rubbed noses with him. "Hi."

"Hi." He gave her a toothy grin and wrapped his arms around her neck. "Anyway, yeah, I sent her some. I figured I'd save you the trouble, or save you just in case you forgot."

"Well, I wish you would've told me you were planning on it, because I sent her some, too."

Emily cringed. "Whoops. Just tell her you couldn't remember if you'd already ordered them a few months ago so you sent her more just in case."

Hotch shrugged. "Couldn't hurt for her to know that you still think of her as a mother figure to Jack and that this day is for her, too."

"I didn't want it to be some sort of peace offering. I just didn't want her to have another reason to be upset with you, so it was more of an insurance policy. I didn't think about what'd happen if you sent some, too. You can tell her you meant to send one bouquet to her work tomorrow, but the order got mixed up. You don't need to say they were from me."

"Or I could just tell her that you're not the heartless kidnapper she thinks you are. Speaking of heartless, did you send any to your mom?"

"Henry, sweetie, can you look behind me for a second?" Henry obeyed and Emily smacked Hotch on the shoulder playfully. "_You're_ not allowed to make fun of my mother. Okay. Henry, you can turn around again."

"You hitting me doesn't answer my question," Hotch said, grinning ear to ear.

"Yes, I sent her flowers. And she and I need to have a more private conversation. Not something I'm looking forward to."

"Have you considered telling her…you know? Maybe it would help her understand a little better."

Emily shook her head violently. "Heavens, no. Never. I couldn't put her through that." She noted the dejected look on Hotch's face. "Not to say that it wasn't hard on you. But when it's your _child_, I just don't think I would be able to handle it if I were her. I'll find another way to get her to understand. Or maybe I'll just wait for her to warm up to it. It took her a while to buy into me being in the BAU. It'll probably take her time to buy into this situation, too."

"Why don't you go over to your parents' for dinner, or offer to take your mom out?"

"I thought you were cooking me dinner," Emily pointed out.

"Well—"

"I get it," Emily kidded, "you just don't want to cook for me. It's fine. I'm not offended."

Hotch rolled his eyes at Emily's foolishness. "I would say invite her over for dinner, but I think we know better than that now."

"Yeah. We might not know better than some things," Emily said profoundly, "but we know better than that. Speaking of which—"

"We're fine," Hotch said, stepping in for a hug.

"I know I wasn't super tactful this morning."

"You said what needed to be said. You're right."

"Still…I'm sorry if I—"

"_Emily_."

"Okay, okay."

"It's still your day. What's next on the agenda? Want to take a nap?"

"No way. I would like to go play outside. What do you say to that, Henry? Want to go play outside?"

"Yup!"

**A/N: Please leave a review! I'd love to hear your thoughts. :)**


	69. Silent Night

While Emily waited at a quiet restaurant, she took out some crayons and a coloring book for Henry. Charlotte started to fuss, so Emily took her out and sat her in the crook of her arm. "What's up?" she asked the baby. "You just ate and you just got changed." Charlotte calmed immediately. "I guess sometimes you just want to be held, huh? Trust me, I know the feeling. Hey, look who's here," she said to Henry, pointing at the entrance to the restaurant. Reid spotted Emily and gave her a short wave before bypassing the hostess and heading over. "Hey," Emily said warmly. She pushed her chair out and stood to give Reid a one-armed hug. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah, you too. I didn't know you were bringing JJ's kids," Reid said while he took a seat.

Emily told herself that Reid's phraseology was perfectly justifiable. They were JJ's children. Even if Emily considered them her children as well, they were first and foremost JJ's, and always would be. "I figured you might want to see them."

"Where's Jack?"

"He goes to Jessica's every Friday night. Hotch is dropping him off right about now."

"Ah."

Emily held in her puzzlement. She had called up Reid earlier in the week to see if he wanted to meet up with her and catch up, and he had seemed excited at the prospect. However, now he just seemed uncomfortable. Emily supposed she couldn't expect any differently, given the relatively small amount of time Reid had seen her or the kids since that fateful day.

"How are things at the BAU?" Emily asked.

Reid pushed his lip out in introspection and opened up his menu. "Good," he said after a while. "As good as they can be given what we do, of course."

"Oh, of course. I know what you mean. Have Hotch and I been replaced yet?"

Henry looked intently at his godfather, who didn't notice at the moment. "Morgan's got a shortlist. So probably soon. Have you and Hotch, um…finalized things yet?"

"You mean with the kids?"

"Yeah. Adoption."

"Not yet. Basically a matter of paperwork. Not to say it isn't important. But we just need to meet up with an attorney. Things have just been crazy."

Reid apparently decided on his dinner and set his menu aside. Once he did, he saw Henry staring at him. "Hi, Henry," he said rather awkwardly.

"Say hi to Uncle Spencer," Emily said brightly. Henry looked back at her curiously. "How about Uncle Reid. Can you say Uncle Reid?"

"Unca Weed."

Reid and Emily caught each other's eyes and smiled. "That works," Reid said.

Henry smiled excitedly and attempted to get out of his booster seat. "Where are you off to, mister?" Emily asked.

"I wanna sit by Unca Weed."

"You are sitting by him," Emily said, but she helped him down anyway.

"Up, peas!" Henry said innocently to Reid.

"Sorry," Emily said. "We really need to get him out of that habit. He always wants to be picked up."

"That's okay." Reid reached for Henry's open arms and lifted him into his lap. "That better?"

"Uh-huh."

Emily beamed. "He totally digs you. Look at that."

"Yeah," Reid said with a self-satisfied smile. "What are you having for dinner, Henry?"

"Macka cheese."

"Mac and cheese? That sounds good. Here. Want your coloring books?" Reid slid them over so Henry could get back to work.

"I'm glad we could do this," Emily said, thanking the waitress who dropped off two mugs of coffee.

"Me too."

"I don't really want to beat around the bush. I'd like to talk about the kids, if that's okay."

"I figured as much," Reid replied, his mood dampening a little bit.

"I know that it seems like Hotch and I are trying to replace JJ and Will somehow, and I know that you and JJ were really close. I just want you to know that that isn't our aim. We don't talk about them with H-E-N-R-Y because he's just too young to understand. When he gets old enough to remember and understand, we'll make sure he knows what happened. He started calling us 'mommy' and 'daddy' because you-know-who did, and Henry idolizes him, so it's monkey-see-monkey-do. Whether he really sees us that way, I don't know. But if he wants us to be that for him, I don't see how we could say no. To Charlotte, either, when the time comes. But we'll never try to hide what happened. I promise."

"Okay."

"Is that what you wanted?"

"I don't know what I want, exactly, besides for JJ to be back," Reid said, his voice cracking.

Emily choked back her tears. "I'm right there with you. Trust me. I miss her more than I can say. Getting to see her kids every day definitely helps ease the pain, though, and I can't imagine what it must be like for you. You should spend more time with them, I think. That might help you, too. That is, if you want to."

"Of course I want to," Reid said matter-of-factly.

"Can I ask you something, then?"

"Sure."

"I mean, maybe this is my fault for not inviting you over or something, but have you not wanted to spend time with them? It's not like you _have_ to spend time with them. But haven't you wanted to?"

Reid stared down at the table, avoiding eye contact, as he often did when deep in thought. "I thought I was kind of…"

"Left out of the whole thing?"

Reid finally gazed at Emily and nodded. "Kind of. As pathetic as that sounds."

Emily frowned, her heart sinking. "It doesn't sound pathetic at all. I completely understand. When their attorney told us that you and Garcia were ruled out as guardians, I couldn't believe it. I mean, the logic of it made sense, but I was still heartbroken for you both. I can see how that would sting. I guess I should have said this a lot sooner if I didn't, but you're…Unca Weed," she said with a light giggle, "and you're just as much a part of their family as we are. You're still Henry's godfather, and you can be as much a part of his life as you want to be. Charlotte, too. And Jack. All of us are one big family that just kind of got separated for a while."

"Do you think I could take them sometime?"

"Henry and Charlotte?"

"Yeah. For a night, maybe. I think I could handle it."

"Sounds rather brave to me. You sure?"

Reid grinned down at Henry, who was oblivious to everything but his coloring book and crayons.

"Yeah. I mean, I've never changed a diaper or made a bottle, but it's all pretty self-explanatory."

"And I'm sure you've read about it," Emily pointed out.

Reid laughed softly. "Yeah. So you wouldn't mind?"

"Reid, look at me," Emily said with such sternness that she sounded like she was talking to Jack upon catching him picking on Henry. "You do _not_ need to _ask_ to spend time with the kids. Any of them. Like I said, you're family. I'm sorry if I let you doubt that. If you want to take them for a night, all you have to do is say so."

"How about tonight?"

—

"She really doesn't mind getting her diaper changed as long as you don't leave her out in the open for too long," Emily explained as she watched Reid change his first diaper in his living room. "So as long as you're quick, she won't cry. And Henry's still in the middle of potty training, but since he's in a new place and he isn't as familiar with you, I'll just leave his diapers instead so you don't have to worry."

"Sounds simple enough."

"Charlotte likes her bottles warm, you must be sitting in order for her to eat, and good luck getting a burp out of her. It takes patience. If you have problems on that one, you'll want to call Hotch. He's the master. They both have at least one change of clothes in the diaper bag, and Charlotte sleeps just fine in the playpen."

"Sounds like you guys have quite the setup worked out," Reid commented.

Emily shrugged. "I guess so. Listen, are you sure about this? I hope I didn't pressure you into taking them, or guilt you into it somehow. This is definitely beyond the call of duty, given how young they are."

"I was planning on asking the whole time. I'm sorry for what I said at your house when I was there with the team. That wasn't fair. I know you guys are doing what you can. And they're better off with you guys, anyway. You have more time…Hotch has the experience. It makes sense."

"If they had been left to you, I'm sure you would have made an excellent dad," Emily said.

"We'll see about that."

Emily laughed. "You'll do fine. If you have any questions and for some reason you can't get a hold of me or Hotch, Garcia can help, too. Give me a call tomorrow when you're ready to give them back."

"Sounds good."

—

"Come on in," Jessica said, holding the door open for Hotch and Jack.

"Hi, Auntie Jessie," Jack said with a grin. "I brought Connect Four!"

"Awesome," she said with a glowing smile. "Why don't you give your daddy a kiss goodbye and go wait in your room? I'll be right up to help you unpack."

"'Kay. Bye, Daddy."

Hotch crouched down and ruffled Jack's hair after giving him a kiss. "Bye, buddy. I'll see you tomorrow. Be good. I love you."

"Love you too, Daddy," Jack said before hurrying off.

Apprehension filled the air the second Jack was gone. Jessica leaned against the kitchen counter, her arms crossed over her stomach. With nothing to do with his hands, Hotch stuffed them in his pockets. He would have left right away as he normally did, but Jessica wanted to talk.

"I got your flowers," Jessica said. "Thanks."

"You're welcome."

"So who sent the extra ones?"

"Emily did. She wanted to make sure you got some, and she wasn't sure if I'd sent you any."

Jessica was clearly trying to hide her surprise. "That was nice of her. Tell her I said thanks."

"You know, you could tell her yourself."

"Do you think she really wants to talk to me?"

Hotch shrugged. "Maybe if you have something nice to say to her. Perhaps some sort of apology."

"Am I five?"

"What?"

"I don't need to be told when to apologize, Aaron."

"If you still don't feel the need to apologize, then I don't know—"

"I know that I need to talk to her. I just haven't figured out what to say yet, and I really don't need a lecture from you."

"All right then. Is that all?" Hotch asked, having absolutely no interest in prolonging his interactions with Jessica tonight.

"That's all," Jessica said coolly. "I'll see you tomorrow."

—

Hotch was enjoying a bit of alone time, sipping his second beer on the back deck, when he heard the front door open. "Back here," he called through the sliding screen door.

"There you are." Emily set down her keys and purse and headed to the deck.

"Lose the kids?"

"Believe it or not, Reid insisted on taking them for the night."

Hotch stopped his beer bottle halfway to his mouth. "Reid? Babysitting?"

Emily laughed. "I know, right? Keeping my phone close by." She sighed contentedly. "Any of those left?" she asked, pointing to Hotch's beer.

"Yeah, have a seat. I'll get you one." Hotch went inside and Emily settled into a plastic chair and propped her feet up on the deck railing. Hotch joined her again, set his beer down, and set Emily's beer next to the railing so that the cap sat right over the edge. Emily watched with curiosity as Hotch smacked the top with the heel of his hand. The bottle hissed upon opening. "Lost the opener," Hotch said, handing the bottle over and putting the top in his jeans pocket.

Emily rolled her eyes and smiled. "Show off."

"How would you have opened it?" Hotch asked playfully as he sat down next to Emily and mimicked her position, crossing his legs at the ankles.

"Would've given it to you and asked you to do it," Emily admitted.

"Well, there we go. Cheers." They clinked bottles and drank.

"This is our first night without any of the kids, isn't it?" Emily asked in awe.

"I think so. Wow."

They went a considerable amount of time without talking, both of them staring beyond their feet and out into the lush, green grass.

"It's quiet," Emily observed.

"Eerily so."

"The back yard is huge."

"Random but true. That would be the reason I still haven't mowed it."

"You might want to get on that. Hey, what do you think about a play set back here for the kids? Swings, slide, that kind of thing?"

"I was thinking the back yard was missing something. Maybe that's it." They both basked further in the silence. "Dinner went well with Reid?"

"Yeah. He was just feeling a bit left out, but I think we're good now. He just needed to know that we weren't forgetting Will and JJ, and that he's welcome to spend as much time as he wants to with the kids. We had a good talk. Hopefully he's enjoying some time with them right now and isn't completely scared out of his wits. We could probably do a better job of keeping the family intact. We should have a cookout soon, once it's reliably sunny."

"We should."

"What about Jessica? Did she say anything this week?"

"She said thank you for the flowers. And she wants to talk to you, but isn't sure what she wants to say yet. So I'm just going to let her be on that matter. She'll come around, I think."

"Okay." Emily was rather enjoying the peace and quiet, and didn't want to introduce any tension to the mix, so she let that conversation come to a quick end. "How was work?"

"Work," Hotch replied. "You?"

"Same. We sure do lead exciting lives."

"Hey, on a normal night, one of us would be sitting waiting for Henry to go potty while handling a screaming stinky baby while the other one tried to convince Jack that all the clocks in the house are right and it is indeed bedtime. Our lives are plenty exciting."

Emily gave a short grin as she twirled her beer bottle in her hands. "I guess you're right."

Hotch continued with the dry but necessary conversation. "Did Garcia find you a new psychiatrist yet?"

"Yeah, actually. My appointment is next Tuesday night right after work, I think."

"Okay. I'll make sure I get out early."

"I think I can drive," Emily said. "I haven't had an episode in a few nights."

"Do you know what's been triggering each one?"

"Not each one, why?"

"Then I don't think you should be driving. If they seem completely random—"

"But I'm only having them at night—"

"For now. You went five months without having any at all and they started up without any discernable trigger. It seems too unpredictable."

"You let me drive tonight, to dinner."

"That was once, and only because we were running on opposing time tables."

"Oh please," Emily laughed. "I'm fine. Not saying I'll never have a flashback again, but when I do, even if I black out later, I start out lucid enough. I would know to pull over and call for help. And if you were _that_ worried, you would've found a way to drive me to dinner tonight."

Hotch looked over at Emily with a tinge of guilt. "I don't mean to be controlling. I just worry."

Her features softening, Emily placed a hand on Hotch's upper back, trying not to laugh when he twitched slightly at her touch. "I know you do. And I appreciate it." Her hand felt perfect where it was, so she left it there, soon taking to scratching lightly through his t-shirt. "I really do. And I know I've told you a hundred times, but Mother's Day was really sweet. Thank you. Again."

"You're welcome again. And thanks for the golf card. Dave and I are going out next Saturday if that's all right."

"No need to ask. Saturday's fine."

After a long silence, Hotch said, "A little lower and to the left, please?"

"Of course." Emily moved her hand and scratched Hotch's back a little more vigorously. "Looks like we'll be getting rained on tonight," she said, eying some ominous black clouds in the distance.

"Starting now," Hotch said, staring up at the cloud that had just let a sizeable raindrop fall on his arm. "Might as well head in."

"Big baby," Emily muttered, following Hotch inside. The instant the door was shut behind them, though, a downpour started.

"Want to take that back?" Hotch asked cockily, kicking his shoes off.

"So you can predict the weather. Doesn't mean being scared of one raindrop doesn't make you a big baby."

"Big baby still wants his back scratched," Hotch announced, following up with a big yawn.

"Sit on the floor in front of the couch," Emily instructed. Hotch obeyed happily and Emily situated herself behind him. Hotch flipped channels and occasionally directed Emily to a new itch to scratch. He let Emily's short nails work their magic until his back ached. Neither one of them surprised, but neither one disappointed, either, they ended up curled up together on the end of the couch before long, listening to the television, one another's breathing, and the sheets of rain that pounded against the roof and windows. "Can I just say how much I love this?" Emily asked out of the blue.

"Love what?"

Emily squeezed Hotch's thick arms, which were wrapped around her stomach from behind. She then lay back against him. "This. When I told you that you had to stay out of my bed, it wasn't because I didn't like it, or didn't appreciate it."

"I know," Hotch mumbled, his chin resting on Emily's crown. He broke his thumb free and stroked her lower stomach, discovering that her shirt had ridden up just a sliver. He let his rough thumb brush against her exposed skin.

"And if I knew I'd be around you twenty-four-seven, and if I knew I could eventually go further, I'd totally come to you every time. You work far better than anything else I've found so far."

"I understand. You don't have to worry about me. I'm all right." Hotch wet his lips before thumbing Emily's t-shirt upward a smidge and running his hand with torturous gentleness across her midriff. Yet again, they found themselves toeing the line. Emily wondered how far she could let Hotch go before she was leading him on; meanwhile, Hotch worried he was pressuring Emily, but couldn't bring himself to stop.

Emily found the brakes before Hotch did, covering his wandering hand with her own before it could venture north or south. Her hint was subtle but effective.

**A/N: Thanks for reading. Please leave a review!**


	70. Red Toenails, Tootsie Rolls, and Prozac

**May 2011 (Present Day)**

"What are you doing?" Jack asked Emily, poking his head into her bedroom.

"Gonna paint my toenails," Emily informed him as she carried a chair to the foot of her bed. "You, sir, should be getting ready for bed."

"I am ready." Jack pulled at his Spiderman pajamas.

"Then it's time for bed. Come give me a kiss."

"But it's not eight o'clock yet," Jack said, a whine building up behind his voice.

Emily sighed and eyed her alarm clock. It was indeed ten minutes before bedtime. Henry had been tired enough to go down five minutes ago. "I guess not."

"Can I help?"

"You can _watch…_"

"_Please_?" Jack showed off his best pout. Emily lacked the energy to put up a fight, so she pointed to the bathroom. "Fine, but you're not getting near an open bottle of nail polish on carpeting. Let's go in the bathroom."

Hotch found the two of them seated on the bathroom floor a few minutes later. "Jack, what exactly are you doing?" he asked in a deep, menacing voice.

"He's painting my toenails for me," Emily reported, looking up at Hotch and grimacing. There was definitely more toe than nail being painted red, but at least none of the polish had dripped onto the tile.

"See, Daddy? They're red now."

"I see that. Okay, last toe, then it's time for bed."

"Can we do your toenails too, Daddy?" Jack asked once Emily's toes were all done.

"Yeah, Daddy, can we do your toenails, too?" Emily mimicked. "Give him the look, Jack. There we go." She and Jack shared twin pouts.

"I don't think so. Come on, Jack. It's already past your bedtime."

Jack looked longingly at Emily, who shook her head. "Sorry, kiddo. We tried. Come give me a hug and kiss goodnight." Jack picked himself up off the floor and walked into Emily's open arms. "Goodnight. I love you."

"Love you too." Jack happily accepted his hug and kiss and walked past his father to get to his bedroom.

"What, I don't get a hug and a kiss?" Hotch asked Jack as he followed after him. Emily laughed quietly to herself, happy for the distraction, and immediately got out the nail polish remover from the medicine cabinet. Finding herself without cotton swabs, she settled for the roll of toilet paper and walked down to the living room. Hotch was there not five minutes later. "Hey," she said, almost finished removing the damage.

"What, you didn't like it?" Hotch teased.

"He's quite the artist, I must say." Emily finally closed up the bottle of nail polish remover and opened up the nail polish again. "So's Henry, by the way. Did you see the ninety-five pages he colored in his coloring book? Reid said he almost couldn't get him to bed."

"I thought you said everything went fine with Reid."

"Oh, it did. He lured him into bed with Tootsie Rolls. Besides that and Charlotte coming home with a backwards diaper, I'd say he did perfectly fine. We should hire him."

Hotch grinned. "May I?" He sat on the coffee table, where Emily had her feet propped up, and gestured toward the bottle of nail polish.

A look of amused disbelief tickled her face. "You want to paint my toenails?"

"I'm actually really good at it, believe it or not."

"I hope you're better at it than Jack. Seriously, though, my feet are so ugly it's not even funny. How could you even want to touch them?" Hotch reached out his hands cautiously, gave Emily a questioning look, and she said, "Fine, whatever floats your boat."

Hotch cupped Emily's toes in the palm of his hand and, without warning, bent them downward until he heard a _crack_.

"Fuck!" Emily hissed, tears welling up in her eyes. "Nice warning."

"Sorry," Hotch chuckled. "Think about it, though. It felt good. Other foot." Emily groaned and provided Hotch with her other foot. She was better able to enjoy the toe-cracking this time, knowing that it was coming.

"I didn't know my pedicure came with a toe-cracking. I don't think I have any cash on me. I hope this is free of charge."

"Lucky for you, I don't take cash, but I wouldn't say no if you offered to do mine. Unfortunately I can't do my own."

"I don't know if I'm strong enough, but clip those nasty toenails and we'll talk."

Hotch grinned and waited for Emily to open up the polish. "_Can_ we talk? About your appointment today, that is, with the new psychiatrist. Not about my toes."

Emily's demeanor cooled down markedly. "What do you want to know?"

"Anything you're willing to share," Hotch said with a shrug and a fleeting, hopeful glance.

"Okay, well…first, she said my past psychiatrists have been going about it all wrong, either by not encouraging me to go through psychotherapy and just sending me away with drugs, or, like the last one, making me go through the entire trauma all at once. The new one wants to go about it more gradually and teach me ways to cope with specific aspects of the trauma, so hopefully I won't get flashbacks as often, or at all, eventually."

"So you're actually going to accept treatment this time? I'm impressed." Hotch had Emily's first big toe down and moved on down the line.

"Hey, I did last time, too. I just neglected to go back." Emily rolled in her lips guiltily when Hotch looked up at her disapprovingly.

"Can I give you some tough love?" he asked hesitantly.

"I don't know. How tough?"

"I know this is hard, and I know you want things to be back to normal, but…I think you need to be more committed to the treatment side of things. You and I both went through a ton of psychology courses in school, and we saw the effects of PTSD firsthand many times. We know this isn't something a pill can fix. You're right in that you need to find a way to cope that doesn't involve me," he said, trying to mask the disappointment in his voice, "but it seems to me like you're happier just…"

Emily's thin eyebrows dipped and her voice went soft. "Happier just what?"

A quiet sigh escaped Hotch's mouth and he dipped the brush into the bottle for more polish. "Like you're happier just waiting for it to fix itself. And maybe I'm reading things wrong, but—"

"If I was happier letting things fix themselves, then why would I have even bothered going in today? I could have just made some sort of excuse, but I went, and I made a standing appointment. Every Tuesday at six."

At that, Hotch knew he probably should have kept his mouth shut. His support was what Emily wanted, not his critique. What she _needed_, he wasn't sure. "You didn't tell me that."

"Yeah, well…" Emily shrugged.

"I'm not trying to insinuate that you don't want to get better. I know you do. But your attitude toward your illness usually gives off the vibe that it's defeated you or that it owns you. You're always apologizing for it. And you don't need to."

Emily wanted to react, to make Hotch feel guilty for criticizing her behavior. But knowing that he was making a valid point made that a little less easy. "Okay."

"I'm sorry if that was a little…too tough," Hotch stammered. Their ability to speak their minds around one another as of late had given him a false sense of security. Now, instead of letting her know that he wanted her to get better, it seemed to him like he'd deeply insulted her.

"No need to apologize. Just calling it like you see it." Emily carefully avoided Hotch's eyes and stared down at her feet, where only three toenails were red. Hotch held the brush in midair. "You're about to drip," she said, pointing it out.

"Oh." For the first time in what seemed like a long time, Hotch felt the connection between him and Emily sever completely. Now he had no idea what to say to her. She wouldn't even grant him any sort of eye contact, instead just picking at her fingernails. He finished up the job he'd promised to do and gathered up the wadded up toilet paper Emily had used.

"I can get it," she said.

"Don't worry about it."

Emily was left by herself for a few moments and passed the time by inspecting her toenails. So he was good at it after all. He'd done a better job than she probably would have. This suddenly symbolized to her how he cared for her—probably more than she did for herself. She'd let her illness fuel a sense of self-loathing and self-pity instead of a desire to fight back, at least until today's session. He, on the other hand, always made sure he was doing whatever it was he could to help her, even if it meant sacrificing her well-being in the long run by doing things like crawling into bed with her. Of course, his motives were at times selfish. He needed the physical contact, the affection, just as much as she did. But his actions had for so long been in the name of helping her through this, or at least easing her pain along the way. She couldn't say half as much for herself.

"You didn't get to finish telling me about your appointment," Hotch said when he reentered the living room. Having the sinking feeling that he wasn't welcome next to Emily, he took seat in the chair instead.

"That's about it," Emily lied, knowing she couldn't share with Hotch the most important moment during her session. "Oh, well, she switched my meds, too. Goodbye Xanax, hello Prozac. And don't get me wrong. I _do_ want to get better, but I hate the idea of being on an antidepressant. I know it's silly, because I honestly have much bigger problems than being on a medication with a stigma attached to it. People joke around about popping a Xanax, but not so much a Prozac—"

"Emily, there's a stigma attached to any sort of medication like that. Just because you're taking an antidepressant doesn't mean you're depressed. Your doctor knows that, I know that, and you know that. And even if you were, that wouldn't make you less of a person. Like I said—and after this I'll leave it alone, I swear—you need to stop letting it own you. Feeling self-conscious about the medication you need—if indeed it is the medication that ends up helping you, finally—isn't taking control of the problem. It's letting the problem take control of you. I can see that this isn't exactly what you wanted to hear from me, but it's called _tough love_ for a reason. It's tough to hear, and it's only because I—care. You know that, right?"

All the grief she wanted to give Hotch for labeling her actions, for accusing her of letting her problems walk all over her, dissolved at this proclamation. On one hand, she knew full well that he cared, and having to hear him check if she knew made her feel guilty for how she'd reacted to him. On the other hand, she wondered if he had cut himself off intentionally—if he'd wanted to say a different four-letter word. She'd lost count of how many times she herself had wanted to tell him she loved him, either in appreciation for all he was doing, or in response to those intense little moments—which were growing more and more frequent—where she wanted nothing but to be able to give herself to him. Hearing him say he cared was more than she deserved, she figured. She couldn't expect anything more monumental if she wasn't able to give as much back.

"Emily?"

"Hmm?" She snapped out of her deeply internal state of reasoning and was gripped by his longing stare immediately. He needed reassurance that she wasn't upset.

"You know I'm just saying these things because I care, right? Not to pick a fight."

"I know," Emily said with a nearly inaudible softness.

"I want you to get better, and I know you want that, too. Just…fight a little harder for yourself."

"I get it," Emily couldn't stop herself from saying. She sighed right afterward and closed her eyes. "I appreciate what you're saying. I really do. I do want to get better, and you're right. I haven't always done the best job conveying that."

"You don't need to admit anything to me," Hotch said. "I wasn't looking for that. You already let me in a lot. Which I don't think I've ever thanked you for."

"I haven't told you everything you want to know," Emily said in direct reference to Hotch's repeated requests to know exactly what had happened to Emily during the day and a half she'd been missing.

Hotch shrugged his shoulders and left them there. "That's probably for the best."

**Earlier That Day**

"Before we dive in, you said you have been diagnosed with Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder by three other psychiatrists, correct?"

"Yes." Emily crossed her legs in the overstuffed leather chair that sat across from her new psychiatrist.

"Can you tell me what symptoms you're experiencing?"

"Mainly flashbacks. Sometimes with an obvious trigger, but sometimes they seem completely random."

"Tell me, what are your goals in seeking treatment?"

Emily tried not to look as perplexed as she was. "Well, I guess, number one would be to stop having the flashbacks, or at least have them less frequently and be able to control them better."

"Understandable, most definitely. You said that was your number one goal. Is there another?"

"Yes."

The psychiatrist waited patiently, hands folded in her lap.

"I'm…terrified of being intimate with someone. I _want_ to be with someone, and someone specifically, but I don't think I can at this point. But I'd like to change that."

**A/N: Please leave a review, long or short, involved or not. Anything you have to say is useful. Thanks! I really do appreciate all you readers out there.**


	71. Antidisestablishmentarianism

"So, legal guardians, huh?" Rossi asked as he eyeballed a greasy menu. After eighteen holes, both he and Hotch had shared a craving for a cheeseburger and had followed their guts.

"Yeah."

"What comes next? Adoption?"

Hotch nodded. "As soon as we get a chance. Supposedly it won't be as iffy as getting legal guardianship. No social worker visits or anything."

"That's good. How are Emily and the kids?"

"Everyone's great." Of course, Emily's issues remained a secret to everyone but Hotch, Garcia, and Emily's psychiatrist (and, to a small extent, Sean), so Hotch had to disregard that topic when reporting to Rossi. However, his assessment wasn't really too far from the truth. Emily had only had two flashbacks (and he was confident she was telling the truth about the number), and mild ones at that, since she'd started seeing her new psychiatrist. Emily of course chalked this up to fate instead of the treatment or her own efforts, but as long as she was getting better, the 'how' didn't matter that much to Hotch.

"It's been what, two months since you and I had a good heart-to-heart, and that's all I get? Why the fuck would you put pineapple on a cheeseburger?" he said with a scowl as he read through a list of specialty burgers.

"Well, what else do you want to hear?"

"Kids are healthy, happy?"

"Yes."

"Then what about you and Emily and the friends thing? That working out?"

Hotch had seen this conversation coming the minute he'd planned their game for that morning, and he'd spent the interim thinking of what he'd say to Rossi. It seemed to boil down to people's reactions. That was what worried Hotch most. Jessica's and Emily's mother's reactions had caused him so much grief that he wasn't sure it was smart to go any deeper into the friendship topic with anyone anymore. He'd come to the conclusion that, indeed, it was in his and Emily's best interests to keep as many people as possible under the impression that they were friends, nothing more, and never planned to be more, even though he could feel that their two-steps-forward, one-step-back pattern was somewhat promising. "Good," he said.

"No more…mishaps?"

"Nope."

"Really?" Rossi's skepticism was deserved, Hotch knew, but he couldn't back down. Letting Rossi in on any of the recent drama in the household would lead to questions he truly couldn't answer without betraying Emily's trust.

"Yeah. It's actually been pretty nice. None of the tension that comes from a relationship. We can fight without it being a big deal. She doesn't have to put me in the dog house, I don't have to take off for a drink. We just…go our separate ways for the night if we need to. But ninety-nine percent of the time, that's not even an issue. We understand each other so well it's almost annoying. I can never get away with anything." Hotch smirked and decided to end his little speech there, before it started sounding too fabricated. But he was too late.

"You're full of shit," Rossi said. "I'll have a good old-fashioned cheeseburger, well done, and none of that fancy stuff on it. Extra fries. And a Guinness, please," Rossi told their waitress, who had just arrived.

"And for you?" she asked Hotch.

"Actually, that sounds good. What he's having, but medium-rare, please."

"As I was saying," Rossi said, but Hotch interrupted him.

"Believe what you want to, Dave, but Emily and I are doing just fine. The whole family is."

"Fine, I will believe what I want."

"Which is what, just out of curiosity?" Hotch couldn't help but wonder.

"That you're full of shit."

—

"It's gonna be _really_ cold," Emily warned Jack, who stood outside the edge of their brand new plastic wading pool in the back yard. Emily had just filled it up. "You might want to give it a few hours to warm up."

"But I wanna go in!" Jack griped.

"Hey, relax, I didn't say you _can't_ go in. I'm just warning you, that's all. Henry, sweetie, you need to keep your trunks on. I forgot to buy you swim diapers." She couldn't help but grin at the little exhibitionist, whose shorts were bunched up at his ankles, the rest of his pale little body exposed. When he just grinned impishly and refused to pull his trunks back up, Emily sighed in amusement and walked over to him.

"We have the same swimsuit, Henry," Jack said, crouching down and dipping his fingers into the glistening water. "This is cold!"

"I told you," Emily said. "Hey, come here a second. I missed some sunscreen on your forehead." Jack came over just as Hotch appeared through the back door.

"Whoa, we got a pool?" Hotch said excitedly, bending down to scoop up Henry, who stumbled up the deck stairs to get to him, arms flapping about.

"It's only for me and Henry," Jack informed his father as Emily rubbed at his forehead. "You're too big, Daddy."

"Yeah, I guess I might be. That's okay, though. I don't have a bathing suit anyway."

"Yeah, you do!" Jack wrestled his way free from Emily and ran at warp speed back into the house.

Hotch gave Emily a quizzical look. "What did you feed him?"

Emily smiled. "How was golf?"

"It was nice. Dave's been practicing, though."

"Uh-oh. You lose this time?"

"Still can't tell without a handicap, but I'm pretty sure he smoked me. What's with the pool?"

"The damn grocery store had pool stuff set up outside. This was the last one left because it's been so hot out the past week and it's Memorial Day weekend, and—" Emily cringed. "You didn't see the look Jack gave me when I said no."

"Pushover," Hotch said with a grin.

"It was only ten bucks. No big deal, right?"

"Except for the fact that we'll have wet kids running through the house all the time now." Hotch kept it light enough for Emily to know he wasn't truly questioning her decision.

"Oh, I already threatened Jack that I'd throw it away if he tracked water through the house, and I don't know if Henry's going to make it into the pool. He'd rather strip than swim, I think."

"Is that right?" Hotch asked the toddler that clung to his side.

Henry giggled and hid his face. "Put me down!"

"What's the magic word?"

"Peas!"

"No, it's antidisestablishmentarianism," Hotch said, digging his fingers into Henry's side and giving him a playful squeeze. The boy shrieked so loudly that Hotch hoped the neighbors weren't outside to hear it. "Okay, okay, not ticklish today, I guess. There." Hotch set Henry free, and Henry made his way over to the pool. "Did my eyes deceive me or are the boys in matching trunks?"

"Oh, even better," Emily said with a hint of mischief. "If Jack went where I think he did, you'll see in a minute."

"You didn't…" Hotch's face went stoic and he let his eyes drop shut.

"I'm sorry, but it was too cute to pass up."

"I found a _pacifier_ in my pants pocket today. Must you strip me of what little masculinity I still have?"

"It's not my fault. I was at the mall to buy the boys trunks and I peeked into the men's section to see if they had just regular shorts for you on sale, then Jack saw the matching trunks and he thought they were so cool—"

"Look, Daddy! We all match!" Jack brought Hotch his own pair of blue swimming trunks with a white hibiscus pattern to match the boys'.

"Oh, wow," Hotch said in painfully feigned excitement. "Just like yours! I can't wait to wear them."

"Put 'em on now."

"You just said I'm too big for the pool, though."

"I changed my mind."

Hotch chuckled. "Okay, well, I have some stuff to do before I can play. Maybe next week I'll take you to the big pool over by your school, all right? They have a slide and everything." Jack's eyes went wide. "Go play in yours for now, though." Hotch waited until Jack joined Henry and cast Emily a dark glare. "You were on a mission to buy me clothes?"

Emily shrugged helplessly. "I'm sorry. I know, in any other household that would mean you should probably be getting some, but I know for a fact you don't own any shorts and it's supposed to top ninety today. Why _don't_ you ever wear shorts, anyway?"

"Never spent much time outside during the summer the past several years. I just don't own any."

"So you're not self-conscious about the size of your calves or something?" Emily teased.

"Not really."

"Well, good. There are a couple pairs on your bed that I think are your size. What?" Emily grimaced at Hotch's overdramatic eye roll. "You needed shorts. I'll never buy you clothes again if you don't want."

"I'd appreciate that. How much were they?"

"This had better not be about money," Emily warned.

"Says the one who wouldn't let me pick up lunch for the family after church just a few weeks ago," Hotch shot back in good fun.

"This is different."

"Yeah? How?"

"It just is. Anyway, they were practically free. Don't worry about it. Do we need a joint checking account or something just so you won't worry about it?"

Hotch cocked his eyebrows. "Maybe."

"Joking."

"Why? It's actually a good idea," Hotch said, taking a seat next to Emily.

"You make more money than I do."

"And that matters because…?"

"Let me put it this way. What if I was making more than you? How would you feel?"

"You'll never make more than I do."

"Excuse me?"

"You won't. You're a woman." Hotch unleashed a full smile right before Emily punched him in the shoulder. "Hey, my sexism is what'll get me to mow the lawn today."

"Good, it needs it, badly."

"I'm going to need you to make me a sandwich, though," he joked. "And get started on laundry and get the baby. I can hear her crying."

"Only because I don't think I've ever started a lawn mower before, I _will_ make you a sandwich, even though you already ate, judging from the stain on your shirt. And I will get the baby. Laundry's already done. Sleep with one eye open tonight, sexist pig," Emily said, making sure the boys weren't looking this time as she gave him one final swat before heading inside.

"I shouldn't have to ask for a sandwich next time," he called after her.

**A/N: Reviews are love and don't take more than a couple seconds to write!  
**


	72. Unexpected

**A/N: You readers officially blew my mind last chapter. Thank you. I guess that's all I can really say.**

**June 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily gasped when Henry, pantsless, tugged her by the hand into the bathroom and showed her his accomplishment. "Henry, is that yours?"

"Yup!"

"Oh my gosh…Aaron!" Emily shouted. She crouched down and attacked Henry's face with little kisses, eliciting a giggling fit from him.

"Everything okay?" Hotch asked. He had obviously run up the stairs, thinking there was an emergency.

"Look!" Emily pointed to the toilet.

"Wow, good job, buddy," Hotch said with a laugh, bending over to give Henry a high five. "Let's wipe you up, then you can try flushing again. Next time don't go walking around until you're cleaned up, okay?"

Emily watched with what seemed to her like very twisted pride as Hotch showed Henry how to flush. He finally succeeded and was rewarded with more affection before Emily re-dressed him and held him over the sink so he could wash his hands. He took off at the first opportunity.

"It would have been kind of weird to take a picture of it, right?" Emily asked while Hotch washed his own hands.

"Probably. We already have a dozen pictures of him sitting on the toilet anyway. I think people will get the idea."

"Wow," Emily marveled. "I can't believe we're successfully potty-training a living, breathing human being."

"Maybe we should get a dog," Hotch suggested.

"Hell no."

"Oh, come on. The boys would love it."

"But they wouldn't feed it and clean up after it."

"I would," Hotch offered.

"We're not getting a dog right now," Emily said on her way down the stairs. "We can't handle that."

"A dog?" Jack screeched. He stood just inside the back door, in his bathing suit, waiting for a lifeguard as instructed.

"You brought it up, so you get to tell him no," Emily mumbled to Hotch, veering off for the kitchen.

"Sorry, kiddo, we're not getting a dog. Let's go out to the pool."

"Why not?" Jack whined.

"Because Mommy is mean."

"Heard that," Emily called from the kitchen.

**One Week Later**

"Shit," Emily mouthed. She'd just caught Henry in the act of flushing Hotch's wristwatch down the toilet, and about a second too late. Since he'd made his first successful flush a week ago, he'd been caught him disposing of everything ranging from green army men to part of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. "Henry, what did Mommy and Daddy say about flushing the toilet besides after going potty?"

He laughed as devilishly as a two-year-old could.

"This is _not_ funny. You know you're not supposed to flush stuff like that in the potty. Now we need to go tell Daddy that you flushed his watch and see if we can get it out. Let's go," she said as firmly as she could manage.

"You what?" Hotch asked Henry once Emily had told him what happened.

"I fushed yo watch."

"Why would you do something like that?"

Henry shrugged.

"What do you say to Daddy, Henry?" Emily asked.

Henry apologized quietly, twisting his hands in his lap.

Hotch looked up at Emily questioningly, as if to ascertain whether she thought Henry should be let off the hook. Emily looked just as confused as he did. After a moment of thought, he took action. "This isn't your first time flushing something you weren't supposed to. We're going to sit in time out for a little bit," he said decisively.

Emily walked away just as Henry started to cry in protest. She hated to establish Hotch as the rule enforcer, but especially when it came to Henry, who was so young and didn't always understand, she sometimes couldn't handle the role herself.

"Think it's still in there?" Hotch asked Emily after Henry's brief but finally quiet time out, finding her hiding out in the kitchen. He chose not to say anything about her unwillingness to discipline Henry, who was now out in the back yard with Jack.

"No idea. Someone needs to be out there with the boys, though. I swear Jack woke up in his swimming trunks. They can't be out by the pool alone. Lifeguard duty or toilet duty?"

"It was my fault for leaving the watch out. I'll go fishing for it," Hotch said.

"That was a nice Father's Day present from him, wasn't it?" Emily cracked.

"Tell me about it."

"So much for a quiet morning," Emily lamented.

"We have a while till everyone gets here," Hotch said, reflexively checking his wrist for his watch, which he'd waited just a bit too long to think to put on that morning. The doorbell rang. "Or not."

Emily sighed exasperatedly. "The house is still a mess. Whoever's early is going to have hell to pay."

"Relax. The house looks fine. Besides, it's a cook_out_, and it's nice out, so we'll be outside. Go get the door. I'll check on the boys. We'll worry about the watch later."

Emily didn't recognize the female silhouette through the glass by the front door, so when she opened the door to find Jessica waiting outside it, she had no opportunity to plan on what to say.

"Hi," Jessica said first with a timid smile.

"Hi," Emily merely echoed, trying her best not to sound as flabbergasted as she was. Hotch had told her nothing about Jessica coming over, although when Emily thought about it, there wasn't really a reason to exclude Jessica from a Father's Day cookout. She was family, even if she and Emily were at odds with one another. "Come on in. Here, I can take that," Emily said, holding a hand out for a pan covered in plastic wrap.

"Lemon squares," Jessica explained.

"Good thing we have more people coming. Lemon squares happen to be one of my many vices," Emily said, feeling rather awkward afterward. "Aaron's out back."

"Actually, I was hoping I could talk to you."

"To me?" Emily asked with wide eyes and a raised brow. "Sure, of course." Emily was no longer terribly bitter toward Jessica. To be truthful, she'd had a thousand other more pressing matters to deal with since she'd heard Jessica insinuating that she was using her body as leverage to get what she wanted from Hotch. She hadn't even thought much about her since Hotch had recently mentioned that she seemed ready to talk to Emily.

Jessica followed Emily into the kitchen and took a seat at the island. Emily leaned against the countertop near the fridge, where she'd stowed away Jessica's food. "What's up?" Emily asked. She could easily tell from the submissive look on Jessica's face that she needed to get ready to accept an apology.

"I wanted to apologize for how I've been treating you. Like you're not part of this family. You are now, and what I said about you was completely uncalled for. Even when I said it, I knew it was a…bitchy thing to say, and that it wasn't true, but I felt like my territory was being invaded, and I got defensive."

"I'm not trying to take anything away from you," Emily started, on a neutral note.

Jessica shook her head hastily. "No, I know. I know you're not. I shouldn't have felt that way."

Emily mustered up a small, comforting grin. "You've been through a lot. You had a right to be confused."

"I lost my sister a year and a half ago. You lost your best friend, what, four months ago, if that? I've been acting like a—" Jessica looked around her this time to make sure there were no children. "—I've been acting like a total bitch, like I said. But you certainly have more reason to be down in the dumps than I do right now, and more reason to lash out at people unexpectedly," she said with a nervous laugh. "But you've been far nicer to me than I deserve. If I were you, I would've said some pretty nasty things right back. It says a lot about you that you didn't."

Emily shrugged. "I definitely don't have it all together, not even close. You just got lucky," she said, chuckling. "I've probably taken all of my frustration out on Aaron. Poor guy."

"Regardless, I'm so sorry. I really miss Jack and Aaron, and you've given me the opportunity to be part of this before and I turned you down. I hope it's not too late. Maybe we can have a fresh start?"

"Of course."

A wide smile crossed Jessica's small face. "Thank you. And I'd like to get to know Henry and Charlotte. I'm sorry for treating them like I did, too. Regardless of my relationship with you, I should've welcomed them with open arms. They're kids and they aren't responsible for how we treat each other."

"Okay, you can stop beating yourself up now. You didn't have any choice in this either. I probably would have reacted the same way."

"So we're good?" Jessica asked hopefully.

Emily offered up a bigger smile than before. "Of course. Clean slate." As relieved as Emily was to have a potential new friend, and to have avoided what could have been an awkward _and_ tense conversation, she was still glad that Jessica didn't know her well enough to feel compelled to hug her. "If you mean what you said about the baby, she's bound to wake up any minute now. She's been napping all morning. We can go get her if you want."

"I'd love that."

—

"Where's Emily?" Morgan asked when Hotch let him and Reid, who had arrived at the same time, through the front door.

"Good question. Nice to see you, too," Hotch said sarcastically, taking some dishes off their hands. "Dave and Garcia are out back with the boys. Emily answered the door for someone earlier. By process of elimination it was probably Jessica, but I have no idea where they went."

"Do they, uh…get along?" Morgan asked.

Hotch's thick eyebrows twitched to life. "Not really, and I think I forgot to tell Emily I'd invited Jessica, so I might need a place to stay tonight."

Morgan's pearly whites burst forth. "Nice. Happy Father's Day, by the way."

"It's not until tomorrow, and this isn't for Father's Day. It's just to have everyone over."

"Yeah, whatever. How's everyone been?"

"Can't complain. Ah, there she is."

—

Once Emily saw an opportunity for a moment alone with Hotch, she pulled him aside. Their guests seemed to be occupying themselves quite nicely. "If you ever pull that kind of stunt again, I'll murder you. Just a heads up," she said with an evil grin.

"I'm so sorry," Hotch mumbled. "I swore I thought I told you she was coming. But it looks like you guys are getting along. Did I miss something?"

"She apologized. We're good."

"Really?"

"Really. Okay, our private conversation is no longer going unnoticed. Go play with you friends now." Emily nodded toward the newly purchased grill, where Rossi, Morgan, and Reid were congregated. Jessica and Garcia had brought chairs over by the pool in the back corner of the yard to watch Jack show off being able to put his face under water.

"Since when do you wear shorts? I've been meaning to ask," Rossi said to Hotch when he took his position behind the grill again, a beer in one hand, a spatula in the other.

"You've never seen me in shorts?" Hotch asked casually.

"Hotch, the only place we see you not in a suit is at home. Okay, jeans on a case once in a blue moon," Morgan pointed out.

"It's summer. I'm wearing shorts. What's the big deal?"

"Actually, it's still spring, technically," Reid said.

"Fine, how about this? It's eighty-five degrees out. I'm wearing shorts. Again , what's the big deal?"

"The big deal," Rossi said, "is that your legs are darker than mine, and mine haven't seen the light of day since nineteen-eighty-five. You've been wearing shorts for a while, haven't you?"

"Sunbathing in the nude, actually," Hotch quipped.

A mischievous smile sneaked across Morgan's face. "She bought them for you."

"What?" Hotch asked, readying himself for the taunting. He was happy to be wearing sunglasses, so at least his friends couldn't see the results of their tormenting him in his eyes.

"Emily bought you shorts. She _bought_ you _clothes_," Morgan said, trying to keep his little laugh from becoming a belly laugh.

"You're seriously letting her buy you clothes?" Reid asked, eyes narrowed. "Isn't that kind of…"

"Something married couples do," Rossi chimed in.

"Enough," Hotch mumbled, flipping some cooked burgers onto a waiting platter.

"Hotch, man, you'd better as hell be getting some," Morgan teased.

Hotch brandished his spatula near Morgan's face and glared at him, not wanting to let out the fact that things between him and Emily were anything other than perfectly friendly. "I said, enough."

"Let me get one thing straight, first. You're not denying the fact that she bought you clothes."

"I didn't ask her to. She just saw them on sale. If you want to make a big deal out of it, go right ahead. But I happen to like them. I've been missing out." With that, Hotch left his friends at the grill and brought the meat over to the rest of the food.

Oblivious to the men's conversation, Jessica, Emily, and Garcia watched the boys play in the pool. Emily knew Garcia desperately wanted to be talking about private matters to which Jessica wasn't privy, and was holding back, thankfully. Jessica hardly knew Garcia, so she didn't know what to strike up a conversation about, either.

"Oh, Henry pooped," Emily reported more excitedly than she realized she should have. "On the potty, I mean. Right, Henry?"

Henry nodded proudly and dropped a toy car from eye level into the water.

"Oh my goodness! Good job, Henry!" Garcia cooed, leaning forward to pinch his pink cheeks. "Em, I think he's burning a little. We should get more sunscreen on him."

"How old is he?" Jessica asked.

"Two and a half. Three in December," Emily replied, handing Garcia the bottle of sunscreen.

"I can't believe you're potty training him already. That's brave."

"Or crazy," Garcia cut in.

"Hey, if he didn't go for it, we weren't going to push it. But he's been doing a good job. Okay, what else is there to talk about besides poop?"

"Isn't it nice when the most exciting thing you have to talk about is excrement?" Jessica said, smirking.

"I need a life," Emily said woefully.

—

"What was _that _all about?" Garcia asked Emily furtively when Jessica left a few hours after arriving. Everyone else was still there. The boys had graduated from the pool to playing soccer with Hotch and Rossi, both of whom had a few too many beers in them and still had one handy.

"What was what all about?" Emily asked, passing a freshly changed Charlotte to Garcia, who was always interested in monopolizing her.

"Jessica. I thought she hated you."

"We talked. She apologized. I think I understood the way she felt already, and I didn't really need her to explain it, but it was nice to hear her say she was sorry. I think that's all I needed."

"You gonna be BFFs now?" Garcia asked with a pout.

"That spot is reserved only for Penelope Garcia."

"As it should be. So, how are things going?"

"In what department?"

"Treatment."

"Pretty well," Emily said. "She's putting me through some cognitive restructuring, basically trying to erase my triggers, or at least make them a little less powerful."

"Any flashbacks?"

"Some, but not as many. I still haven't really been able to make them go away on my own, but I'm not getting as many in the first place, which is a start. Maybe once the medication kicks in fully, I'll stop getting them. Anyway, I think it was a good move. Thank you so much, Garcia. I think I might actually make it through this, and that's in large part thanks to you."

"Speak nothing of it," Garcia said. "I'm thrilled at the prospect of you getting better. And not to cheapen that, but also thrilled at the prospect of…well, you know. Babies with dark hair, dimples, and futures in the FBI."

Emily patted Garcia on the knee and let her eyes roll just briefly. "I don't think you have anything to worry about."

"Except dying from impatience."

"Well, there's that."

"Do you mean the part about the babies?" Garcia asked.

"You don't think three's enough?" Emily said, laughing in disbelief.

"Not if none of them are biologically yours and his. Seriously, complete the circle of love."

"I love _you_, how about that? Is that enough?" Emily asked.

Garcia took a deep breath and let it all out in a _whoosh. _"I guess it'll have to be."

"That's the spirit."

**A/N: Please leave a review! **


	73. Thinking Back and Looking Ahead

**July 2011 (Present Day)**

"Do you really think we can get that much for it?" Emily asked her real estate agent.

"Lots of remodeling and renovations makes a house stand out. A lot of homes in this area aren't even move-in ready because of all the foreclosures and people not taking care of their homes once they knew they were going to lose them. This house is the nicest on the market in the neighborhood."

Emily shrugged and moved Charlotte to her other hip. "Okay. Then yeah, let's go ahead and list it."

The agent smiled. "Great." She opened up a folder of forms and began highlighting lines for Emily to sign. "Just need a few of your signatures and you can leave the rest up to us."

"Thanks," Emily said quietly once she handed over the paperwork and the house key.

"Did you want a minute?"

Emily guessed she looked obviously unsettled when the agent asked her this. Emily had disclosed the details of why she was selling the house, so _why_ she looked unsettled was seemingly clear to the agent.

"Yeah, actually. I would. Thank you." Emily's voice was dry and raspy. She decided to take one final tour of the house before leaving. She looked down at the curious baby in every room she stepped into, telling her what each room it had been. She saved Will and JJ's room for last, not sure if she wanted to include that in her tour. On one hand, she didn't know if she could handle it, but on the other hand, she felt that if she took the time to look at the rest of the house, she needed to at least take a glimpse. "And this was your mommy and daddy's room," she almost whispered to Charlotte, as if they were doing something they weren't supposed to be doing. "And yours, too. But now you have your own room."

Emily had no idea she was crying until a salty drop teased the corner of her lip. A shaking hand rushed to clear her face. She knew now that she probably should have left this to Hotch. He'd insisted he could take care of listing the house as well as selling Will and JJ's extra car—which Emily had taken on the day before without nearly as much a problem—but Emily had felt some odd need to prove her own resilience. She was paying dearly for it now. The baby, just about ready for a short nap as she'd been feeling under the weather the past couple of days, pressed her cheek forcefully against Emily's shoulder.

"All right, let's get you home."

Hotch had taken Jack and Henry to the former's soccer practice, and since it was Friday and Jack needed to be dropped off at his aunt's, Hotch and Henry wouldn't be home for another half hour by the time Emily put the baby down for a nap. Jessica seemed warmer toward Emily lately, but still hadn't offered to take all three children, and had only been over to dinner once. Emily had resigned herself to the fact that she and Jessica still had a ways to go.

Once Emily put the baby down, she listened to her cry for just a minute before she put herself to sleep. As she then made her way down to the basement, she took over crying duty. She reemerged on the first floor with a box that was almost to large and heavy to carry.

When Emily felt the thin layer of dust on one of Will and JJ's wedding photos, she counted the months since their deaths. Just a little over four months. Charlotte would be reaching the six month mark in about three weeks. Under Emily and Hotch's care, she'd grown from tiny and completely helpless, to several pounds heavier and sitting up on her own for a few seconds when she tried. Henry had started out shy and quiet, but now flourished physically and emotionally in a household with a new big brother to look up to. The children were moving on with their lives far better than Emily could have ever expected.

Emily had taken a seat on the couch to go through Will and JJ's photos. Next to her sat a box of tissues that was slowly reduced to nothing as she wiped most of the dust off of each frame. It felt like a couple of months ago, all over again, when she had been packing up the same pictures at their home. So much had happened, had changed, since then, but her current breakdown had her feeling like the last several weeks' progress was slipping away. The life in which she'd grown rather comfortable now seemed like a sham. Sure, Henry and Charlotte were doing just fine. Emily and Hotch were giving it their absolute all. But JJ's pearly white smile and Will's wide, soft eyes looking up from the last photograph made Emily feel suddenly like a thief. The tears flowed more freely when Emily picked out her favorite framed wedding photograph and propped it up on an end table in front of a lamp. She wondered what Henry would think of it, if anything, but knew somehow that it belonged there.

Emily's best attempt at warding off the tears before Hotch and Henry got home was to cook dinner, so she took some marinating chicken out of the fridge and went outside to start the grill. She hadn't started soon enough, though. Hotch and Henry appeared at the sliding glass door, Henry in Hotch's arms and waving excitedly. When Emily's soppy face turned toward them and she smiled, Henry seemed unfazed, but Hotch's smile slid away.

Once Hotch opened the door and set Henry down, he ran the few steps to Emily and hopped into the arms she offered as she crouched down. "Hey, did you have fun?"

"Yup!"

"Why don't you go play on the swings a little while I make dinner?"

"'Kay." Henry took off for the newly assembled wooden play set, just another token of what Emily was seeing as a joke of a life.

"Rough time at the house?" Hotch asked quickly, before he knew Henry would be calling for help onto the swing and for a push.

Emily shrugged. "I'm fine."

"That's not what I asked."

Emily was grateful for Henry calling Hotch over. She took some time to compose herself, even though she knew she wasn't off the hook yet. Maybe she could be a little more convincing, at least, if she wasn't still crying when Hotch got back to her.

"Beer?" Hotch asked as he passed Emily and opened the door.

"Sure."

"Thank God it's Friday," Hotch asked when he came back outside with two beers tucked between his fingers and the dish of chicken resting on his arm.

"Tell me about it," Emily mumbled, taking the dish and one bottle.

"I wish you would have let me take care of listing the house, at least," Hotch said as he helped himself to a welcoming chair.

"It's not a big deal," Emily insisted. Hotch gave her a look that said she was insulting his intelligence before he got up to give Henry another push on the swing.

"If it's not a big deal, then why—"

"Not now, please."

"Then when? Come on. You always talk to me."

"Only when it matters," Emily said, feeling the tears brim her eyes again.

Hotch hadn't sat down again. He'd left himself an opportunity to intervene physically, and now he took it.

Emily shivered when she sensed Hotch approach her from behind, sniffled when he took the tongs from her hands.

"Trying to cook," she said.

"Grill's not hot enough yet." Hotch's arms wrapped around Emily's shoulders, crossing them at her chest, leaving her no choice but to lean her head back against him. "Just talk to me. I'll get it out of you sooner or later."

"When _you_ want to brood, I let you brood," Emily whined.

"I'm not as nice as you are."

Emily's little laugh came out shaky and wiggled the tears free. Her hand, after doing its job of wiping the tears away yet again, rested on Hotch's forearm afterward. "I took a final walk-through at their house and just felt like…and I know I've said this before, but it felt a lot more real this time…like we're forgetting about them. And like we stole something from them."

"Emily, they passed away. We only took what they wanted us to have."

"I know, but given the choice, I know they'd rather be here with their kids."

"Of course they would. But it's not their choice. And it's not our choice. I know you miss them, but don't let that bleed into all of this."

Emily went on as if she hadn't even heard Hotch. "What the hell is the purpose of all of this?"

"What do you mean?"

"Sometimes it feels like this is all some lesson I'm supposed to be learning. Or that my life was headed in the wrong direction, so God decided to do this."

"If that's the case, do you not feel like your life is headed in the right direction, as things stand now?" To Emily's relief, Hotch didn't sound hurt at her poor wording.

"I guess that's the strange thing. It does feel right in a lot of ways. Six months ago I was a total mess. And now I have this, and it's amazing, but why couldn't this have happened somehow without them dying? It just makes this feel so fake and, I don't know, undeserved. I can't even explain it."

Hotch was glad Henry seemed to be occupying himself just fine and didn't ask for another push on the swing. Hotch also figured that by now, seeing him and Emily hug wasn't terribly out of place. "I may not understand why you feel the way you feel, but I am listening."

"I know it sounds stupid."

Hotch let go of Emily and turned her by the shoulders until she was facing him. He didn't wait or beg for eye contact, just placed a swift kiss on her forehead and pulled her close once again. "It doesn't sound stupid."

**January 2011**

"So I was thinking…" JJ said to Will as they turned in for the night. Charlotte was expected any day now.

"Yeah?" Will answered with a yawn.

"You seemed like you didn't have any obvious choices for godparents for the baby."

"And?"

"I was thinking Hotch and Emily." JJ rested on her side and gave Will a look that pleaded for understanding.

"Don't they kinda hate each other?"

"Umm, it's actually rather the opposite," JJ corrected. "If you know what I mean."

"And you know this how?" Will countered with a heavy roll of his eyes. "Every time they're in the same place, they avoid each other like the plague. I don't know how you were raised, but I grew up calling that hate."

"They're just going through a rough spot. Being godparents will give them something to bond over. I think it'll help them get closer again."

"You wanna use our baby as a matchmaking tool?"

"That's just a bonus. Hotch and Emily are both wonderful people. Hotch is a great dad and Emily would be a great mother. They're both Christian, so the essential belief system is there, which is obviously important. I mean, God forbid anything were to happen to you and me, they'd both be my first choice for the kids anyway."

"The kids, plural?"

"Well, I don't want them split up, and Reid and Garcia both work eighty hours a week. They can't raise kids."

Will scowled. "Then why did you insist on them in the first place for Henry?"

"It was my first kid. I wasn't thinking about the what-would-happen-if-I-died scenario. I was trying to thank them for being amazing friends, trying to make them part of my family."

"I'm gonna be honest with you, Jayje. I don't like talking about us dying, for one. And for two, I just—"

"A lot of people give their kids godparents who hardly know each other. Hotch and Emily know each other inside and out."

"Yeah? If they know each other _so well,_ how come they _don't_ know they _don't_ hate each other?"

"Because they're each ten times more stubborn than you. If you can come up with a better alternative—"

"Anything would be a better alternative."

"Yeah? How about your good-for-nothing brother? Or another couple of workaholics from the BAU? You know that's basically our entire family. You haven't been here long enough to have any buddies from work that are close enough to ask, and _I_ happen to have two very close friends who I know would be happy to do it despite any differences they may have right now."

"You really think so?"

"I know so. The if-we-die thing is just a precaution. But even if something did happen to us, I know the kids would be in good hands."

"I think you're thinking too much about setting your friends up and not enough about what would happen if something happened to us."

"Like I said, the matchmaking thing is just a potential side effect. Even if they were already getting along, they'd be my first choice. I swear."

"Only because of I can't think of any alternatives…"

**July 2011 (Present Day)**

Emily remained sullen the rest of the evening, only putting on a happy face when it was necessary to keep Henry out of the loop. When Henry had spotted the picture of his parents in the living room and exclaimed "Mommy! Daddy!" Emily had nearly lost it all over again.

Once Henry was in bed, and while Emily was downstairs getting some clean laundry to fold (she insisted chores would be therapeutic right now), Hotch tried to think of some way to cheer her up. He figured she was probably in one of those funks he probably wouldn't be able to talk her out of. She just needed to be distracted enough until the storm passed.

"I take it I have to go get the camera this time?" Emily asked when she set a basket of clean clothes down in the living room. Hotch lay on his back on the couch, Charlotte lying on her tummy on top of him. At this time of night, she was normally still awake, but not today.

"Probably," Hotch said with a grin, glad to get any sort of reaction out of Emily.

Emily couldn't withhold a smile as she snapped a couple of pictures of two of her favorite people. "Is her nose _still_ runny?" she remarked, plopping down in front of the couch to start the task of sorting through the kids' clothes and removing items that no longer fit—an item that had been on her to-do list for a while.

"Jack spent at least half of his first year with a runny nose. She's fine. You're not going to comment on how cute we are?"

"My heart is a puddle of goo right now, trust me," Emily said.

"Let me see the picture," Hotch said. Emily handed him the camera. "Look at this."

"What?" Emily turned her head, at eye level with Hotch.

"How does this not seem real?" Hotch found himself incapable of letting Emily go on in this sour mood for any longer. Not if he could possibly help it. He showed her the picture of him and the baby.

"You know that's not what I meant," Emily said. "I know it's real."

"Is it about Henry remembering them from the picture?"

"No. I'm glad he remembers them."

"Because you know he still knows you're his mom, too."

"It's not about that," Emily said impatiently.

Hotch sighed out of frustration. "I'm going to ask you a question, and I don't want you to take it the wrong way, okay?"

"Go for it."

"Did you take your medicine today? I know you're not taking it for depression—"

"I took it. Listen, you don't need to talk me down. I'm sure I'll feel better tomorrow. It was just rough being over there today. I think we should put these pants away," she said, holding up a pair of Henry's jeans. "They're a little small now. Henry couldn't get them off on his own to go to the bathroom the other day."

Hotch resigned himself to spending the evening with the expert in subject-changing. "Okay. Put them away for what, though?"

Emily had mistakenly spoken on behalf of the children she wondered if she might have someday with Hotch. "Just in case. They're pretty unisex jeans. Maybe Charlotte can wear them in a couple of years."

Unbeknownst to Emily, Hotch had caught on to her original reasoning. But he said nothing more on the matter, lamenting the fact that the baby conversation was one that would probably never be necessary. "Okay."

"And this shirt. Is it just me, or do Jack's wrists hang out a couple of inches when he wears it?" Emily held the shirt up over her head so Hotch could take a look.

"Yeah, you're right." He stared at the back of Emily's head for a while, as if he could read her mind that way, as if it were a gateway into her innermost thoughts.

"Hey, you know, once the house sells, Henry and Charlotte will be pretty much set for college and then some," Emily said somewhat offhandedly as she neared the end of the clothes basket.

"Yeah."

"I was wondering…well, I was going to just write extra in my last rent check to you—"

"I really wish you'd stop calling it rent."

"Well, whatever. Anyway, I know it's not really any of my business how much you have put away for Jack already, but I'd like to contribute."

Hotch had seen this conversation coming for a while now. Tonight's mention of the babies' financial futures being secured with the sale of their parents' home was not the first. "First of all, it is your business. Again with the biological parent thing. You know where I stand with that."

"Okay, then, how much do you have put away for him already?"

"Maybe five grand."

"Then that's a thousand per year so far."

"Right."

"Do you think eighteen grand is going to get him through college? Actually, probably less than that now that you have two extra mouths to feed. I don't think he's going to have enough."

"I'm planning on him getting scholarships."

"That's cute, but you don't know how much of that sort of stuff will be available by the time he's going off to college. And what if he wants to go Ivy League? We should have more put away for him. And I'd like to contribute."

Emily was expecting Hotch to ask how much, but he didn't.

**A/N: Please leave a review. They are love :)**


	74. Emily's Turn

**A/N: Enjoy!**

"I…"

Emily nipped Hotch's hesitation at the bud. "You can't argue your way out of this one. You agreed to me raising Jack should you do the unthinkable and croak. You saw the reason in that and changed your will. That would include me putting him through college. So your argument is invalid."

Hotch rolled his eyes, knowing full well Emily couldn't see, as she was facing away from him. "All right. You win."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Emily turned back, her brow scrunched. "Are you okay?"

"What? I'm not allowed to let you have your way?" Hotch didn't smirk like Emily would have expected.

"Hey, seriously, what's going on? Did I touch a nerve?"

Hotch mustered up a gentler demeanor. "No, it's fine. It means a lot to me that you insist on doing something like this." He meant the words, but hated how he couldn't put on a happier face for her.

"You're coming with me to my next appointment. You need your head checked."

**Two Weeks Later**

"How many different over-the-counter drugs have you tried now?" Emily asked Hotch as he sneezed his way down the stairs on a Friday morning.

"Lost count," he said stuffily.

"Are you sure it's allergies?"

"Pretty sure. It's been a while since I've had a yard to be allergic to."

"I'm not really sure that's how it works, because I think I can count on one hand the number of times I've ever heard you sneeze, even before you lived in your apartment," Emily said skeptically. "Will you please go see a doctor already? It's been almost two weeks. And to top it off, you've been in a foul mood ever since I brought up helping save up for Jack's college fund. At first I thought you were worked up over that, but now I'm not so sure."

"Anything else that's bothering you?" Hotch asked dryly, starting up the coffee.

"The grey hair on the back of your head."

"Are you serious?" Hotch grumbled.

"Turn around." To Emily's surprise, Hotch obeyed. Emily plucked the offending hair. "First one?"

"That I know of," Hotch answered with a sigh, turning and taking the wiry hair from Emily. "Great. Just what I needed."

Emily tried to garner some sympathy. "I'm sorry. But at least it's only one, and you made it halfway through your forties. I've been getting greys for at least five years now. Pluck them or cover them if you don't like them. Anyway, please go see a doctor today about your not-allergies."

"You can't just do walk-ins anymore, Emily. There's a month-long waiting list to see just about anyone."

"They have openings for emergency appointments every day. Just call ahead and find out when."

"I'll be fine."

"Do it," Emily said firmly.

—

"We read the story three times already," Hotch said to Henry that night, who flipped _The Cat in the Hat_ open to the first page again and pointed at the first illustration.

"Peas?"

"Not tonight, kiddo, sorry. Time for bed."

Henry shoved out his fat lower lip and wiggled down under the covers. Hotch smoothed them out over Henry and brushed his hair from his forehead to kiss him. "'Night, buddy." He walked over to Jack, who was already lying down in bed and hadn't seemed to be paying attention to the book, to give him a goodnight kiss as well.

"You don't have to tuck me in anymore, Daddy," Jack said before Hotch was halfway to his bed.

"What? You love getting tucked in."

"Not anymore."

"Oh." Hotch tried not to let his disappointment show. "Okay. I won't tuck you in. Goodnight," Hotch said shortly. As he turned out the boys' light, he wondered what had to give. _Something_ had to give. At least he was feeling a bit better after a doctor visit and prescription strength allergy medication. But his son not needing to be tucked in anymore compounded with everything else that was going wrong in his life was enough to make him wonder what it had felt like to be Emily when her mother had doubted her (something that hadn't yet changed at all, as far as he knew), Jessica had hated her, and her history had come back to haunt her. But once Hotch started to list all of his own problems, he knew they couldn't be all that bad.

"Hey, grumpy," Emily said, looking up from a magazine that she read on the couch.

As much as Hotch didn't want to let things get to him, as much as he wanted to be as resilient as Emily, he ignored her remark and continued forth into the kitchen.

"Make that really grumpy," Emily called. She waited for Hotch to come back with a beer in hand, and he did. "Okay, you have to talk to me." She sat on her feet and looked at the chair she knew Hotch would take. "What's the matter? You sound like you're _feeling_ better…"

Hotch stared into his beer bottle once he sat down, as if whatever was floating around inside could tell him what to say. "I am feeling better."

"Then spit it out. What's bothering you?"

"I thought you let me brood when I want to brood," Hotch pointed out with the twitch of an eyebrow.

"I have, for two weeks. Please."

Hotch took a deep breath and let it out slowly while he thought. "Jack wouldn't let me tuck him in tonight."

"Oh," Emily said softly. "I'm sorry. That's got to be rough."

"He's not even six yet and he doesn't need me."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down. Just because he doesn't want to be tucked in doesn't mean he doesn't need you. He just wants to look like a big boy. He probably got the idea from some kid at daycare. But you're his hero and you always will be."

Hotch nursed his beer pensively, trying to remember an event that would help him believe Emily, even a little.

**May 2009**

Emily had been spending much more time with Hotch and Jack than any of their coworkers would have deemed appropriate for two people who weren't close friends. Finally, instead of being secretive about her plans, she tried not to hide, as much, the fact that she was doing things like accompanying Hotch and Jack on outings. At first, these admissions had earned her strange looks, especially from Morgan, but eventually, no one seemed to find it terribly odd that Hotch and Emily saw each other outside the office. Once it was established that they were friends just like Morgan and Garcia were friends, or like Emily was friends with JJ and Garcia, it stopped raising eyebrows.

On one such outing at the zoo, they were lingering around the lion exhibit—Jack's favorite—waiting for one of the big lazy cats to do something interesting. Instead, the lions were hiding in the shade.

"Daddy?" Jack, then three and a half, asked. He stood on the top railing of the fence, his father behind him.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"What do lions eat?"

Hotch cast Emily a strange glance. She shot him a look that said, _Good luck with that one._

"Well," Hotch started. "They eat lots of things."

"Like macaroni?"

"Well, they don't have macaroni out where they live."

"Then what do they eat?"

"Well, uh, they eat meat."

"Like steak?"

Hotch chuckled softly. "Kind of."

"What is steak made of?"

"Cows. You know that, Jack."

"Lions eat cows?"

"Not cows, but other kinds of animals."

"How do they eat them?"

Hotch looked helplessly at Emily, who leaned forward against the railing and tried not to laugh at Jack's incessant questioning.

"Well, they have to catch them."

"Do they chase them?"

"Yes, Jack, they chase them."

"Like you chase bad guys?"

"Sure, I guess. But without big, fast cars."

"Oh."

Emily and Hotch eyed each other, both obviously wondering why Jack's last response didn't end with a question, but Hotch certainly wasn't going to let it bother him. He was running out of kid-friendly answers. "Doesn't look like the lions are awake right now, kiddo. Wanna go see the penguins?"

"Yeah." Jack held his arms out so Hotch could help him down to the ground.

A few minutes later, the three of them stood inside a dark, musky passageway with glass on one side that looked into the penguin exhibit. Emily was far more interested in the interactions between Hotch and Jack than any animal they'd seen. They were almost like an exhibit themselves. She'd spent the entire day sneaking glances. At the moment, Jack stood with his nose and hands pressed to the dirty glass. Hotch stood behind, next to Emily. "My daddy catches bad guys," Jack said proudly to a little girl next to him, about his age.

The little girl looked curiously at Jack, then behind him and up a few feet at Hotch.

"He's like a lion," Jack added.

"I don't _eat_ the bad guys," Hotch corrected.

"He chases them," Jack said to the girl.

"Let's go see if the lions woke up, Jack," Hotch said, liking that Jack wasn't too shy to open up to people, but not wanting him to get too comfortable talking to strangers. He also felt the girls' parents' eyes on him, which made him want to make himself scarce that much more.

"Tell them about the bad guys, Daddy," Jack protested when Hotch scooped him up.

"Maybe next time. Come on."

Jack was only good for another hour or two before he got tired and ornery as a result. He fell asleep in his booster seat before they even got out of the parking lot.

"You're hilarious," Emily said out of the blue as Hotch pulled into a long line to get out onto the main road.

"That's not a comment I usually get. What makes you say that?"

"You're so uncomfortable with the fact that your son idolizes you. Thank goodness he doesn't notice, otherwise I'd feel bad for him."

"He doesn't idolize me."

Emily's mouth opened into a wide smile. "Oh, come on. He does, too. You're his hero."

Hotch's attempt at ignoring Emily was futile. His lip twitched, barely perceptibly.

"Just remember that," she said.

**July 2011 (Present Day)**

"Has your mom called you back yet?" Hotch asked his beer bottle.

"Nice try," Emily replied. "You're not getting off that easy. Listen to me. If anything, this is Jack's attempt at showing you how big and brave he is, so you'll notice and be proud. Please don't let it get you so down."

Without a response, Hotch tipped back his beer.

"Okay, maybe I have no right to tell you how to feel. I guess that's not fair. Anything I can do to cheer you up, though?"

"I'm fine," Hotch said, reaching for the remote control, the ultimate conversation terminator.

"I'll be right back," Emily said after gazing longingly at Hotch's profile. She knew he knew she was watching him.

Hotch assumed Emily was going to the kitchen, but when he heard the jingle of keys, he realized she was leaving.

"Where are you going?" he called, worried he had actually angered her with his stoniness.

"Store. Back in five."

Convinced that Emily didn't sound angry, and now hoping she wouldn't come back with some strange attempt at cheering him up, Hotch flipped channels as he continued to feel sorry for himself. Emily was back within five minutes, as promised.

"You're needed out front," she told Hotch, strolling into the living room.

"Why?"

"You'll see."

With no spring in his step whatsoever, Hotch made his way to the front porch, where Emily was already waiting in a chair in the sticky heat. "Yes?" he said.

She held out a back of cigarettes and a lighter. "Porch smoke. It's been too long."

"It's hot out," Hotch protested with no heart whatsoever.

"It's beautiful out." Emily patted the chair next to her and passed the paraphernalia to him once he obeyed her instructions.

"Do I get to do the honors?" Hotch asked as he searched for the plastic pull tab on the cigarette box and put his beer down.

"Be my guest." Emily watched, pleased, out of the corner of her eye as Hotch pulled a cigarette away from its friends and shielded it from a tiny breeze while he lit up.

"Do you think we're turning into rednecks?" Emily asked, snatching up Hotch's beer and taking a swig.

Emily's remark finally got Hotch's eyes to light up just a little. "Maybe we should move these little sessions out back," he noted as Emily helped herself to her own cigarette.

"Yeah, maybe. This neighborhood is kind of uppity, don't you think? No one actually sits out on their porches. They're only outside during the day to watch their kids ride their bikes, if that, but come nighttime they lock themselves up inside. Not that we haven't been doing the same thing lately."

"When I was a kid, we were out on the front porch every night," Hotch said, a hint of nostalgic bliss kissing his voice.

"It's kind of nice. But us being the only ones that do it just makes it kind of sad."

Quite a few minutes passed in silence, both of them reflecting on something quite different. Hotch realized he wasn't trying very hard to rid his mind of the notion that he was a failure. He was wallowing, he knew it, and he had to admit that it almost felt good to feel sorry for himself for once. Emily, on the other hand, was trying to figure out a way into Hotch's head. Obviously, he had something weighing on his mind, but seemed even more resistant than she would be to talking about it.

Hotch lit up another cigarette eventually, and once Emily had finished her first, she reached out her hand wordlessly for a drag from Hotch's, not sure if she wanted to share only because she didn't want to smoke an entire second one by herself, or because she loved the idea of something in his mouth being in hers. When she let that idea come to the forefront of her mind, she wondered if that were some sort of sign. Needless to say, she missed the physical contact that her flashbacks had afforded her. She missed him climbing into her bed, missed waking up next to him, occasionally aware of the fact that he'd been watching her sleep.

But there was something much more sensual about her little oral fixation.

Unfortunately, she sometimes forgot to be more discrete about where her eyes wandered, and they were planted on his mouth, envisioning what his lips would feel like on hers again.

"Is my smoking fascinating you?" Hotch asked, passing the cigarette back to her, his beer long forgotten between them.

"Sorry, just spacing out," Emily said. As much as she delighted in the peace and promise of this moment, the knowledge that Hotch was upset about something and unwilling to divulge was bringing her down. "So, are you going to tell me what's wrong?"

"Emily," he said testily.

"You're seriously going to hide this from me?" Emily said in disbelief, worried for the first time that whatever was weighing him down was quite serious. "If it's not about the college fund, and it's not about being sick, and it's not about Jack not letting you tuck him in, because you've been testy for two weeks now, then what is it? Is it something I said or did?"

Hotch rubbed the skin on his forehead with his fingers. "It has nothing to do with you."

"Somehow, that worries me more. If it's not about me, then it must be pretty bad if you don't want to share it. Is it about Jessica?"

"_Why_ can't I have something that I know and you don't? If we were married, that would be one thing—" Hotch knew as soon as the words left his mouth that he'd made a misstep. To his initial relief, Emily didn't get up and leave, but as he watched her roll her lips in and stare intently out at the grass where some lightning bugs were hovering about, he almost wished she _had_ stormed off. "I'm sorry. I don't even know where that came from. I'm sorry. I'm just in a nasty mood."

"Yeah, I noticed," she said, her voice barely registering. Her blood boiled, not entirely because Hotch was holding their friendship status against her—whether or not he meant it—but because her level of readiness to move forward with him clearly wouldn't be enough. He needed much more than she could give him at the moment. She willed herself not to cry as his slip-up stomped all over what little hope she had.

"Will you please trust me that what's bugging me now isn't important?"

"No, because if it's bugging you, then it's important. End of story," she insisted, meaning every single word she said, and realizing that she'd been waiting for this moment for months now—a chance to help him for a change. A chance to come to his rescue instead of the other way around.

"It's not important. It's something that shouldn't be bothering me. I just need to move past it." Both their voices were creeping up in volume and impatience, but neither made or even sought eye contact.

"It would be really nice if you let me. You don't always have to be the hero, you know. And I don't mean that in a bad way. I'm not trying to say that what you do for me and for the kids is uncalled for. Or not appreciated it. It is. But you can let someone help you once in a while. Not making it on your own doesn't make you a failure."

"I never said it did."

"Then why are you so afraid to share this with me, even if I can't fix it, even if all I can do is listen?"

"Because I don't want anyone to know. This is my problem entirely, and it's not even really a problem."

"You're making absolutely no sense right now. Is there any chance at all that you'll just talk to me, or should I give up and go do something productive?"

Hotch went long enough without answering for Emily to take a hint and take a hike. Not sure whether she was more angry at Hotch for being so secretive, worried about what was going on with him, or hurt by his little Freudian slip, Emily knew she needed to occupy herself, or she'd never be able to get to sleep that night. She took to going through the cupboards and refrigerator and writing a grocery list for the next morning. Once that was done, still with no sign of Hotch coming inside, she picked up some clutter in the living room. She knew there were always more things that needed to be done. It was an occupational hazard of bringing up three children. But it was Friday night, and her last two weeks with a cranky partner had been exhausting, so she curled up on the couch and channel-surfed, keeping her ears keen on the front door, waiting for Hotch to come back inside.

While Emily distracted herself, Hotch sat outside and did what he did best when he failed—he let the feelings of guilt and incompetence wash over him. He stewed in his own self-hatred. Self-hatred that stemmed not only from his failure in accomplishing something that should have been so easy, but also from how he'd reacted to Emily.

For what must have been two hours, he sat still—the sun was long gone by the time he decided to go inside. He could see the top of Emily's head on the arm of the couch, the flashing lights from a commercial bouncing off the walls. "I'm gonna head up. Goodnight," he said quietly, in case she was asleep. Either that was the case (and indeed it was), or she was choosing to ignore him, he figured. In any case, all he could do was travel heavily up the stairs and get ready for bed. Sleep never found him, though. His body was tossing and turning in bed, and his mind was still sitting out on the front porch, replaying his interactions with Emily, dwelling on his own issues. He never did hear Emily come upstairs. Ultimately coming upon the conclusion that he was never going to get any shut-eye while he was at odds with her, he rubbed his tired eyes and rolled out of bed. As he scratched his scalp on his way downstairs, Emily's head came into his view again, seemingly not having had moved since he last saw it. "You awake?" he asked cautiously. No answer.

He tried to weigh his options. Would Emily want to be woken up if it meant he would finally open up to her? Or would it be selfish of him to interrupt her—as always—much needed sleep to finally unload his worries onto her, when that was something he should have done two weeks ago? Figuring that either way, she would have a reason to be unimpressed, he decided that resolving their problems—or his problem—now, while the children were tucked away, was probably best. "Emily." He sat on the other end of the couch, near her feet, waiting to see if his voice would rouse her. "Em." He touched her knee, causing her body to jerk awake.

"Huh? Ugh, did I fall asleep down here?"

"Yeah."

"Sorry, was the TV on too loud?" she said groggily, fumbling for the remote. Hotch found it first and shut the television off.

"No. I woke you up so we could talk. I know that's pretty selfish, but—"

"You mean so we can talk, as in you can tell me what's going on?" Emily said, instantly interested.

"If you still want to know."

Emily rolled her eyes in the dark and sat up. "Of course I still want to know." Forgetting, for the time being, about Hotch's marital status jab from earlier, she closed the space between them and found his shoulder, giving in a squeeze. "Talk to me."

Hotch sighed loudly. "I, uh, got passed up for a promotion at work a couple of weeks ago." He mistook Emily's silence for the same disappointment he was feeling.

"That's…that's it?"

"What do you mean, _that's it_? It was a big promotion. And I thought I had it in the bag. In fact, I still don't see how they passed me up for it. Yeah, I've missed quite a bit of work because of the kids, and—"

"And me," Emily piped in, but letting Hotch continue.

"But I still don't see why I got passed up. I'm still ticked over the whole situation, that's all," he fibbed.

"Strauss was trying to sabotage your career left and right, and you hardly spent any time getting worked up about that. You just showed her time and time again that you deserved your job. Why is this any different?"

Hotch shrugged and rolled his head into the back of the couch.

"I'm sorry," Emily said soothingly as soon as she realized she hadn't expressed any concern for his feelings, only scrutiny over them. "I really am. I wish you would've told me sooner. Did you think I'd be upset?"

"No. I didn't say anything when I went up for the promotion because even though I thought it was a done deal, I just wanted to be sure. And then when they told me they were going with someone else, I was livid. And things were going well here. You've been feeling better, things have been running smoothly. I didn't want to disrupt that."

"Do you know how frustrating that is to hear?" Emily asked, her sentence harsh but her tone anything but. "You've been the glue that's held this family together for months now. I'd be going crazy without you. You're worried about disrupting things? This isn't something we'd need to bring up with the kids, and it's not like you're taking a pay cut, so it's not going to affect our income. This is something you just need to talk to someone about. I'm not saying it doesn't suck, but you coming to me about something that's troubling you isn't going to get me down. I want to be there for you. To be honest, I'm kind of drooling over here," she said with a light laugh, accepting an arm around her shoulder and scooting closer. Happy that Hotch was warming up, she continued. "Just talk to me. Tell me everything that's making you angry right now. I can't get you that promotion, but I can listen to you rant and insist that you're amazing."

"I've already said pretty much everything there is to say," Hotch murmured distantly, indulging himself in letting his hand brush up and down Emily's shoulder. Her nuzzling a bit into him had a familiar, pleasantly warming effect on his body.

"You know what I think?" Emily said.

"I have a feeling I'm about to know."

"Smart man. I think there's something else bothering you."

"What's that?"

"Oh, I didn't say I knew what it was. I just feel like you're not _just_ pissed that you didn't get the job because you thought you deserved it—which, by the way, I'm sure you did."

"I'm sorry for what I said out there," Hotch said after a long lull.

"Huh?"

"About me not saying anything to you because we're not married. I—don't have a clue where that came from. A piece of paper should have nothing to do with whether I'm able to talk to you."

"Yeah, well, even that piece of paper wouldn't give me the rights to every single thought that runs through your mind."

"That's not stopping you now," Hotch pointed out in good humor.

"I'll keep it in mind for later, when I'm too busy to want to listen to your whining," she said playfully. "For now, subject changer, please tell me what else is bugging you." She felt Hotch's chest swell under her ear and sink back down again.

"It would've been a significant pay increase."

Emily's heart sank like a rock. "You're worried about money? Since when?" she asked, drawing away from him, testing to see if her eyes had adjusted to the darkness well enough to look at him directly.

"Since all of this." Hotch tightened his mouth and fought off the stinging behind his eyes.

"We're not hurting, Aaron."

"We could always use extra."

"Everyone could always use extra. But we don't _need_ it. Everyone gets to eat, everyone gets a doctor when they need one, everyone has clothes, we have two working vehicles, toys for the kids, and enough extra to put away. We already have extra. If money's really what you're worried about, then I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to stomp on that one. We are completely fine. If it's just a general sense of feeling like you're not providing enough, I guess that comes along with the territory of getting overlooked for a promotion, and I understand even though I wholeheartedly disagree. But if it's specifically about the bottom line, then I can't let you worry about that. Henry and Charlotte are set, and we'll make sure Jack will be too when the time comes." Emily patted Hotch on the chest, then leaned away to grab the remote. The relief Hotch felt when she returned to him was somewhat disconcerting. He had known for a while to some extent how much she needed him, but he had forgotten, or maybe had never known in the first place, how much that same need applied in the opposite direction.

"So that's it?" Hotch asked as Emily unfolded the blanket that had hung over the back of the couch and made herself comfortable under it.

"Is there something else on your mind?"

_Oh, if only I could really tell you_, Hotch thought longingly. "I don't know. Are we okay?"

"Of course we are. Are _you_ okay?" Hotch's earlier comment had rattled Emily's confidence, but knowing that she'd possibly helped Hotch, even just a little, helped her regain some of it back. She tossed the rest of the blanket over Hotch's lap and reached up for the hand that lay against her shoulder.

"I don't know. I think so. It's late, though…You sure you want to watch TV?"

"Not particularly. It's just been a while since I got a good cuddle in. Is that okay?" Her tongue wetted her lips and she hoped she hadn't said too much, been too forward. This was new territory for her, acting on getting close with him again instead of just thinking about it. It was like diving into a pool full of ice cold water after staring at it for ages, wondering how cold it was, and finally thinking it couldn't be all that bad.

"Of course."

"It's okay with you?"

Hotch was beyond confused, but he knew one thing. "This is always fine. Oh, by the way, one more thing," he said.

"Yeah?"

"Doctor said my blood pressure's sky high. He was surprised I was still alive. So I'm on medication for that now, too."

"Oh, goodie. No more salt for you. We'll talk about more lifestyle changes tomorrow," Emily said drowsily, patting Hotch's hand. "To sum up tonight, I'm glad you're feeling better, remember that Jack loves you more than anything, salt and pepper hair is incredibly sexy, and know that we're all very grateful for everything you do, okay?"

"If you say so." Hotch offered no further comments on the fact that Emily left the television running. He did, however, wonder if she really needed to watch an infomercial about a new cooking gadget. "Can we turn it?" he asked after the infomercial looped for the second time. He used his reach for the remote—in case she refused—to move even closer. When she didn't reply, he realized her breathing was rhythmic now, smooth and shallow. He continued his quest for the remote control, cloaking them in darkness once again, before lying down as much as he could into the side of the couch. Whether in sleep or not, Hotch didn't know, but Emily moved easily with him.

**A/N: Reviews are love! What do you think? I am always curious to know.  
**


	75. A Broken Heart and a Sunburn

**July 2011 (Present Day)**

"Is it time for my game yet?" Jack asked as he followed Emily out to the car. She held the car seat, complete with a recently immunized and consequently wailing baby, in one hand, and held Henry on her hip with her other arm.

"Just about," Emily said. Emily waited until all the kids were situated in the back of the Tahoe, and the door was shut, before heaving a small sigh.

"Is Daddy coming too?" Jack asked the second Emily sat down in the driver's seat.

"Not until the end of the game. Remember, we talked about this this morning before your dad left for work. He has to stay a little late."

"Why?"

"For work things," Emily said absentmindedly as she tried to focus on getting them to the soccer field.

"What kinds of work things?"

"I don't even know, honey. But it's just this week, okay?"

Once Jack was off in a flurry of blue to warm up with his team, Emily got herself Henry, and Charlotte situated. Luckily the latter had cried herself right to sleep.

"I wanna pay, too," Henry announced, standing up and making a start for the field, where the game was underway. Emily caught him by the arm just in time.

"This isn't your game, baby. Here, have some crackers." She dug through the diaper bag and proffered a plastic bag full of them, feeling uncomfortably domestic.

"No!" Henry shrieked.

"Good God," Emily said under her breath. "Okay, no need to scream, but you need to sit down." Emily felt the eyes of the surrounding parents on her. Henry sat down again on their blanket and munched on the crackers he'd refused only seconds ago. Emily just rolled her eyes and tried to focus on the game. Hotch never made it, but he at least sent her a text message so she wouldn't worry.

"Daddy didn't see?" Jack whined once the game was over, not that there had been much to see. He'd been put on defense and had used all of a five foot radius of the field, refusing to move much more. To top it off, his team had lost by four goals. Emily figured that if Hotch was going to miss just one game the whole season, this was a good one to miss.

"Sorry, but he couldn't get out of work on time. But you did a great job. I'm so proud of you." Emily stood up and smiled, smoothing her hand through Jack's hair as she pulled him in for a hug.

"Is he mad at me?" Jack asked as Emily started to pack up.

"Why would he be mad at you?"

"I dunno." Jack kicked his toes into the grass and stared down at the baby. "He's not nice to me anymore."

"Oh, come on," Emily said incredulously, but calmly at the same time. "When was he not nice to you?"

"I dunno."

It appeared to Emily that Jack was attention-starved, but she knew he also had a point. Hotch had been noticeably warmer toward Henry than toward Jack ever since Jack had asked to stop being tucked in a couple of weeks ago, even after Emily had tried to talk Hotch down. There was still plenty of residual resentment and self-loathing regarding his failure to get promoted as well. It hadn't been an extremely pleasant month. "You know what?" Emily said brightly once they were all packed back into the SUV and ready to go home. "Would you like to make your daddy happy and earn a _whole dollar_ at the same time?"

"Yeah! How?"

"Okay, first, there's a rule, and it's a big one. You listening?"

"Yup."

"You _cannot_ tell him any of this. That's the rule."

"Okay."

"What I need you to do is to ask him to tuck you in tonight, okay?"

"Why?"

"Because he likes to tuck you in, and he's been really sad ever since you asked him not to. And he's kind of a stinker when he's sad. He could use some cheering up. But you can't tell him we even had this conversation, okay? It'll be our little secret. Deal?"

"Deal!"

—

An ornery six-month-old resulted in Hotch doing the grocery shopping on his own the next morning while Emily stayed home with the children. He seemed to be in a better mood than was typical lately when he left, especially given the fact that he was being sent out to do his least favorite task on his own. "Did you ask your daddy to tuck you in last night, Jack?" Emily asked when he came downstairs with some toys to bring outside.

"Yup! And then he said he's gonna take us to the pool today because he didn't come to my game yesterday!"

"Oh, cool…It was nice of him to give up his golf day to take you and to do the grocery shopping. You'd better thank him."

"We get to go simming?" Henry asked excitedly, still in his pajamas.

"Sounds like it," Emily said, smiling. "So he was happy when he got to tuck you in?" she asked Jack.

"Yup! Can I have my dollar now?"

Emily smirked and grabbed Jack around the middle as he approached her, his hand held out. She squeezed his side and said, "Nice try. You already got your dollar. But you can earn one more if you let your daddy tuck you in every night."

"A dollar every time?"

"No," Emily laughed. "Just this once. If I paid you a dollar every day we'd have to sell your swing set. Deal, though?"

"Deal!"

"You still can't tell your daddy, though. Now we have two little secrets."

Despite the fact that it wasn't even ten o'clock yet, Jack insisted on getting in their own wading pool in the back yard. Emily had told him three times that he had to wait, but he took matters into his own hands, put on his bathing suit, and went out back by himself when Emily was in the basement switching laundry loads. She came upstairs and saw Henry, who had previously been playing with some cars with Jack, playing by himself. "Jack? Where'd you go?" she called, but she heard no answer. "Henry, where did Jack go?"

"Simming," Henry said, pointing out the back door. Emily dropped her laundry basket and hurried into the back yard.

Jack was sitting in the wading pool, filling up a bucket with water and dumping it over the side. "Jack!" she couldn't help but shout. To say he was startled would be putting it mildly. His face told Emily that he knew full well that he was in trouble and why, but her fury was uncontainable. "_What_ are you doing?" Jack was already out of the pool before Emily could finish her sentence. "I told you I don't know how many times that you could go in the pool when your dad got home from the store and took you to the big pool. Guess what this stunt just earned you," she said, taking Jack by the hand and leading him inside. Thankfully she didn't have to pull. He knew exactly what he'd done wrong. She didn't wait for him to respond. "The pool gets dumped, and you're not going anywhere today." She talked over his consequential desperate whining and sat him on the couch. "Look at me, Jack. It is _too_ dangerous for you to go swimming by yourself. That's why you're never allowed to go alone. And if you can't listen to simple instructions, then you're not allowed to swim." Jack tried to cry over her ranting, which just frustrated her more. "Jack, enough crying, or you'll go up to your room for a nap."

"I don't have to take naps, though," Jack said, more collected now. "I'm a big boy."

"Big boys listen to instructions. You're not acting much like a big boy right now. You know what you did was wrong. If you're done crying, then go dry off and put your clothes back on."

"My real mommy was nicer than you," Jack mumbled before stomping to the stairs.

—

"Okay, someone's not happy. Scratch that, everyone's not happy," Hotch said when he got home. Emily helped him unload his purchases, her countenance far less pleasant than the one he'd left to. Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter, his cheeks puffed up and his bottom lip hanging out for dramatic effect as he scribbled in a coloring book. Henry latched onto Hotch at the soonest opportunity; Emily attributed that to Henry possibly being scared of her. She'd never had to lash out at either of the boys like she had at Jack that day. She'd tried to be gentle with Henry to let him know she had only acted that way because Jack had done wrong, but Henry seemed convinced he was in trouble, too, and had been avoiding her.

"Jack did something _very_ wrong," Emily said, glancing at Jack, who let himself down from the counter and made himself scarce.

Hotch's little grin disappeared as he looked at Emily, confused. "How wrong are we talking about?"

"He was…" Emily sighed and massaged her forehead, clenching her eyes shut. "I think maybe I'm being too hard on him, but he scared the living daylights out of me—"

"I doubt it. You're usually pretty even-tempered with them. If you went off on him, he probably deserved it. What'd he do?"

"He went out to play in the pool by himself after I told him no all morning."

"He what? Really?"

"Yeah, and I flipped out, told him the pool's getting dumped, and told him he's not going anywhere today. Too harsh?"

"Not at all. Don't worry," Hotch said soothingly. "I probably would have been meaner. He knows the rules."

"Daddy?" Henry asked.

"Yeah, buddy?"

"Can we go simming now?"

"Yeah, but it looks like it's just gonna be you and me. That all right?"

Henry nodded and pushed on Hotch's chest, signaling that he was ready to be put down.

"Don't worry. I'll talk to him. I did tell them we'd go to the real pool today, though. I'm fine with Jack having to stay here, but Henry remembers, obviously. Do you want to stay here with Jack and the baby or take Henry?"

"You take Henry and have some fun," Emily said, wanting desperately to tell Hotch about Jack's biting comment to her that indicated that Jack knew perfectly well that she wasn't his real mother. She knew Hotch would talk her out of her hysteria. But after all she had worked for in the name of feeling like Jack's mother and not just his father's friend, coming to Hotch for help would mean admitting that she didn't feel secure in that respect anymore. She wasn't sure whether she did (and she supposed that wasn't the best of signs), but she certainly couldn't see herself telling Hotch.

"Something else wrong?" Hotch asked.

Emily forced a smile and shook her head. "Go. Have fun. Just talk to Jack before you go. A united front might make him hate me a little less."

"Is Daddy back yet?" Jack asked with precious hesitance from the bottom of the stairs a few hours later. Emily was reading a magazine with Charlotte in her lap and looked up. This was the first she'd seen of Jack since before Hotch and Henry had left.

"No, not yet. Ready for some lunch?"

Emily had thought Jack couldn't break her heart any more than he already had, but she was proven wrong when he pouted, shook his head, and turned to go upstairs again.

"Hey, Jack, I love you," she tried. He ignored her completely. Emily spent the rest of Hotch's time away trying to convince herself that she couldn't let a five-year-old make her cry. She was successful, but apparently hadn't put on a happy enough face for Hotch, who came inside with Henry looking rather content but not for long.

"What'd he do now?"

"Nothing, he's just ignoring me," Emily said. "He wouldn't eat anything for lunch, and I just don't have it in me to give him any more orders today. I'm burnt out."

"You were a lot tougher before you got handed three kids, you know," Hotch remarked.

"Yeah, I know. Did you guys have fun? You guys look so cute in your matching swim suits," Emily said to Henry, whom Hotch set down on the floor, wincing as he did. "Whoa, what's wrong with you? Did you hurt your back?"

"Got a little bit of a burn," Hotch said. "Don't worry about it."

—

Hotch was about to give up his quest to remove his shirt to go to bed that night when Emily knocked on his door. "Come in."

"Hey, brought you a present," Emily said, holding up a bottle of aloe vera gel.

"Oh, thanks. I could use that."

"Would you like some help?" Emily asked with a grin, trying to hold down her laughter.

"With what?"

"You've hardly been able to use your arms all day. Let me see."

"I'm not entirely sure I can get my shirt off." The look on Hotch's face was pitiful but amused at the same time. Apparently he was in a better mood after Emily's successful bribery of Jack the night before.

"Is it seriously that bad?"

"Emily, you've known me for what, almost five years? Would I ever pretend something hurts more than it does? Especially a sunburn?"

"Okay, okay, sorry. Arms forward."

"What? No, you're not taking my clothes off."

Emily stepped back and shut the door, laughing quietly. "You can't say things like that. Taken out of context, well, you know. Okay, we're going to lose the shirt one way or another."

Rather than have Emily undress him like a child, Hotch swiftly reached his arms over his head and bunched the cotton into his hands. He yanked the shirt off in one motion, cringing and almost crying as he did. Quickly reaching his arms back that far and letting the cotton brush against his aching skin was like pulling off a Band-Aid, except it hurt much worse once it was over.

Emily gasped when she saw. Hotch's shoulders and back were beet red. "Holy shit, you weren't joking. This—you know, I can't even make fun of you right now. I'll be right back." She left and returned empty-handed.

"What's going on?" Hotch asked.

"We're out of vinegar."

"Vinegar?"

"I'm as white as they come. I've had my fair share of sunburns. Trust me. Vinegar is magic. This'll have to do." Emily climbed into Hotch's bed and knelt behind him. "This has got to be _the_ worst sunburn I've ever seen. How on earth did you manage that? And only on your back and shoulders?"

"Didn't sunscreen my back and shoulders," Hotch said.

"And why not, smart alec?" Emily realized she was sounding much too motherly for her own liking. "Sorry, arms not flexible enough, right? And just too lazy to do your shoulders?"

"Yes and yes."

"You should have asked Henry," Emily said with a chuckle as she squirted a generous amount of gel into her hand. She then stared at the seared red flesh. "Wow, Aaron…Did you drink some water? You might be dehydrated now. Okay, sorry, turning the mom button off now."

"Thank you."

Emily smoothed the cool gel over Hotch's upper back as gently as she could. "This is gonna hurt for quite a while. Did you take any painkillers? Oops, sorry, sorry, sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for caring," Hotch relented. "Just…please don't ever try and take my shirt off for me ever again."

"Deal. At least in this context," Emily teased. "So did Henry help you pick up any ladies at the pool?"

"Not when he told me every five minutes that he wasn't going to poop in the pool," Hotch said, his upper body shaking with silent laughter.

"Oh, he didn't. That's hilarious." The more gel Emily slid over Hotch's skin, the more amazed she grew at the severity of the burn. "How'd you even get your shirt back on?"

"It wasn't this bad when I left. I promise I'll never get a sunburn ever again."

"Hey, don't get sassy. You're basically getting a backrub here. I don't think it's enough to make up for the fact that you'll probably have trouble getting dressed for at least a week, but at least it's something, right?" The allusion to anything remotely sexual lately had Emily thinking more and more seriously about just doing something—anything—to get the ball rolling. She hadn't had a flashback in over a month, but sometimes just thinking about them made her anxious enough to doubt herself. At least she felt like she was getting there, even if it was at a cruelly slow pace.

"Sure. Are you okay?" Hotch asked out of the blue.

"What?"

"You still seemed kind of rattled today with the whole Jack thing, even once he stopped ignoring you."

"He only stopped ignoring me because I threatened to withhold the macaroni and cheese unless he was polite to me."

"Kids love unconditionally, Emily. If there's one piece of advice that can get you through a day like this, it's that he'll never love you any less just because you yelled at him. He'll eventually push the whole thing out of his mind and try to con you into filling the pool back up."

"Can we talk about something else?" Emily asked.

Hotch was no less confident in there being something else on Emily's mind, but he decided she'd been through enough that day, and that if it was important enough, she'd come to him eventually. He wasn't feeling vengeful at the moment, so he didn't pull the same card Emily had two weeks ago to force her to speak. "Sure," he said. "What?"

"I don't know. Anything." Hotch's back was saturated now, but Emily couldn't help but run her hands along it still, wishing she could do more, but knowing she'd have to be content with this right now. She felt happy here and didn't want to push her limits. Little did she know, she was slowly driving Hotch crazy. Her voice had been distracting enough, but now that their conversation had come to a lull, all he could sense was her hands gliding along his spine, spreading out across his shoulder blades. He envisioned what she must look like behind him—wondered if she was still rubbing him down for a reason—biting her lip, closing her eyes, fantasizing—or if she was just spacing out. "Oh, I know," Emily said suddenly, snapping Hotch out of his own evolving fantasy that involved returning the favor to Emily and then flipping her over on the bed.

Hotch licked his lips. "What?"

"I think we should all start taking walks together in the evening, maybe after dinner. Not letting you touch the salt shaker and making you pack a lunch is only going to do so much. Even if you're physically fit, which I have no doubt you are, exercise would probably still help."

"A stroll with the family isn't exactly exercise," Hotch pointed out.

"Then join a gym."

"Too expensive."

"Use the one at work. You do have one there, right?"

"Nope."

Emily sighed. "Then go running in the morning or at night or something. Please. You need to take care of yourself. High blood pressure is dangerous. And not to be insensitive, but you know heart problems run in your family. Add that to high blood pressure…"

"I know," Hotch said, cornered. "I'll dust off my running shoes."

"Good."

"Will you tell me what's bothering you, then?"

Emily was caught off guard. "No."

"So there is something wrong. You said you were fine. You were lying?"

"Maybe," Emily said, dispensing more gel into her hands even though being finished would give her an excuse to end the conversation and say goodnight.

"Okay, I get how you felt a couple weeks ago. We're the only adults in the household. The only sources of intelligent conversation. When you're upset, it upsets me—actually, it kind of drives me crazy—and I'd like to know what's going on."

"Even if you're the source of the problem?"

"I guess I didn't think of that," Hotch admitted. "In that case, wallow away. Don't bother me with the details."

"Well, lucky for you, it's nothing you did."

"Then who?"

Momentarily, Emily wondered if she should just make something up at this point. She still felt strongly about not wanting to taint the idea of her as a mother to Jack, to admit to Hotch that she didn't feel one hundred percent comfortable in that role. She knew she needed a pep talk from him, from anyone. But she was feeling rather proud at the moment.

"Hey, I talked to you about my promotion. Even if you guilted me into it, I did. Your turn."

"Fine…It's Jack."

"Did he do something else?"

"He _said_ something, actually."

"What?"

"This is going to sound really pathetic. I know I shouldn't even be upset. He's five, and I took away his toy and grounded him. Any five-year-old would have lashed out, and he happened to have some really good ammo. He told me that his real mommy was nicer than me."

"Oh."

"See? I told you. It's silly. He has every right to differentiate between me and Haley. She was his real mom."

"That doesn't mean you're not allowed to be hurt by what he said. But I think you're right in that he was just trying to get back at you."

"Would a kid his age really understand that that's important to me? Maybe he was just making a point, not trying to manipulate me," Emily reasoned aloud.

"Either way, he didn't mean it. This is the first time you've had to discipline him beyond a time-out and he was probably just surprised, even though he knew he was breaking the rules. Just give it until tomorrow. I'm sure he'll be all over you like he normally is."

The gel under her hands was already warm from the burn, so Emily went on, applying more. "You're probably right."

"Music to my ears."

"Moving on…so you're going to go running in the morning, do you think? Not to make this about me, because it's only _kind of_ about me, but if you die and leave me here alone with three children, including Jack, who hates me, then I will find a way to bring you back from the dead just so I can kill you again. In all seriousness, I do need you—we all do." Emily realized, as she said it, how true it still was and always would be. "So please take care of yourself. Do we have an understanding?"

"I don't know…a dollar might make the running a little easier…"

"A dollar?" Emily asked, her cheeks flushing. _He ratted me out_, she thought.

"Yeah, I hear that's your going rate to get people to do what you want."

"Please tell me you're not mad." Emily folded her slippery hands in front of her and waited for Hotch to twist his neck and look her in the eye. Much to her relief, he sported a grin so small that only she could detect it.

"I'm not impressed, but I'm not mad. It was a nice gesture."

After a sigh of immense relief, Emily said, "How did you find out?"

Hotch was turned back around now and let his words come out slowly. "I must've looked surprised, and he told me you paid him to do it because you didn't want me to be sad."

"Oh. Well, he's more perceptive than I give him credit for, I guess."

"Have I really been that bad lately?"

"It's not something you can help, but I have been worried. I feel bad for you, and when you're upset like this, sometimes I feel like I'm in this alone. Not that you don't do your part—you do—but we just function better when we've both got it together, you know?"

"I'm sorry I haven't been at my best lately, but I think you'd be just fine without me, you know. Not that I plan on going anywhere."

"I know," Emily said, but she wasn't so sure.

**January 2011**

"You can still change your mind, you know," JJ said for the umpteenth time as she handed Charlotte, baptized just the day before, over to her godmother.

Emily smiled softly and rolled her eyes. "And you can keep saying that, and I can keep giving you the same answer. Do we really need to keep doing this?"

JJ put her hands in her lap and sighed in defeat. "This team isn't the same without you."

"It wasn't the same without him, either," Emily added on. Her confession to JJ on New Year's Eve meant that JJ wanted to talk about Hotch more than ever. At least she was getting more subtle in getting to that point, and sometimes Emily couldn't help but indulge her. Her smile grew and her brilliant teeth showed through when the baby finally opened her eyes.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course," Emily said, grateful that JJ didn't mention Hotch's name, even though Emily had taken the bait. "But you probably know the answer, and it's no."

"I wasn't going to ask if you'll come back."

"Then what? Sorry," Emily said, regretting her snippiness. JJ couldn't help but want to make sure she was making the right decision. That was JJ.

"I guess maybe I might not understand because it's not like I was around Will for years and then he left, like it was with you and Hotch, but anyway, why is this affecting you so much? I understand you had strong feelings for him, but it just doesn't sound like the Emily I know to leave because she's pining over someone. I'm sorry if that sounds judgmental. I just want to understand. Is there something else going on?"

Emily's smile faded away barely noticeably. "I don't know how to explain it," she said, hating that she had to lie through her teeth to her best friend. "I just wasn't working the same way without him around. Part of it _was_ from having the rug pulled out from underneath me, thinking he and I were going somewhere and then having him up and leave and not make an effort to keep me in his life, but the other parts I can't explain. Maybe it was feeling stupid for thinking that a relationship with a superior could ever work out anyway."

JJ's eyes narrowed. "That doesn't make any sense. You were already good friends. You knew Jack really well already, too. The conflict of interest and all of that was already there."

"Yeah, but sex changes everything. I had a relationship with a colleague once, and the day after we first slept together, working with him was totally awkward, even though we'd gone out a couple of months before sleeping together. I think it would've been the same way with Hotch, and I feel kind of dumb now for thinking we could have made that work." Truth be told, this thought hadn't really crossed Emily's mind now. It was only in her race to fabricate reasons for feeling of whack in the BAU once Hotch was gone that she came up with this.

"Well, I don't think feeling silly should make you want to quit your job. And I don't think you _should_ feel silly for not thinking of the whole leader-subordinate issue. When you're in love with someone, you—"

"I never said that word. Not once."

JJ cast Emily a sardonic look that had a spice of playfulness. "Right, you were _never_ in love with him, sorry. You just liked him a lot for a really long time. When you _like_ someone that way, you kind of stop thinking."

"_You_ didn't stop thinking," Emily noted. "You went out with Will for a year until he finally convinced you to admit to everyone else that you were dating. You spent that entire year worrying about things. I just spent over two years with tunnel vision, not understanding the possible consequences of whatever it was I wanted."

"Don't beat yourself up, Em."

Emily shrugged. "I can't help it."

**December 2010**

The Cook County medical examiner let Emily and Morgan inside; the bodies of three women in their thirties already lay out for their viewing.

"As you can see, the breasts and genitals of all three women were completely mutilated."

"Postmortem or antemortem?" Morgan asked.

"Antemortem."

Emily's eyes fluttered shut and she looked away from the cold, white, slashed bodies and into the corner of the room. It had been six months since she'd had those eyes to help her keep her composure, keep her resolve. Yet she instinctively thought about Hotch. It usually didn't take her more than half a second to remember she no longer had a coping mechanism.

"Wow," Morgan marveled, shaking his head. "I can't imagine being alive for something like that."

"_Look, she's crying again. Do you think she's had enough?" one captor asked the other, stroking his unkempt beard and eying Emily with mock pity, his beady black eyes piercing hers as she sat in a way that covered as much of her naked body as possible._

"_No, I think she wants more."_

"Prentiss?" Morgan asked when he saw Emily stepping speedily the room.

"It's Rossi," she said, holding up her phone. "Service in Chicago is iffy at best. Be right back." She prayed to God that her ruse worked as she looked for an exit. Stuffing her phone back into her pocket, not wanting to call Hotch only to get to his voicemail like last time, she leaned against a brick wall outside and put her hands on her knees. "Come on, Emily," she muttered. "Not right now." As she waited for her first on-duty flashback to run its course, she knew it had to be her last.

**A/N: Please leave a review and let me know what you think!  
**


	76. PG

**August 2011 (Present Day)**

"Look what I have!" Garcia said in the highest pitched voice she could manage. She held out a container of homemade chocolate chip cookies for Henry and Jack in her office at the BAU. "Oh, wait," she said, snapping the container back and looking over at Emily. "Have they had dinner?"

"Yeah, I just fed them a quick dinner before I came over. Go ahead, guys," she said, gesturing toward the cookies. Jack took two, and Henry stood looking in the container to find the perfect one.

"I'm so glad you came in," Garcia said, offering Emily a cookie, too.

"Don't mind if I do. Whole family's on a bit of a diet. Aaron's blood pressure is running high."

"Uh-oh. No more salt, huh?"

"That, and he goes running in the mornings, and we're just trying to eat healthier in general. Right, boys?"

"I want pizza," Jack said morosely.

"Me too, kiddo, but look on the bright side. You have cookies, right?" Emily said, sounding as chipper as she possibly could. Hotch hadn't had the will power to stay out of the junk food and salty food at home, so Emily had decided to make it a family effort. Neither she nor the boys were fans.

"Can I go find Uncle Spencer?" Jack asked.

"Mostly everyone's gone, including Strauss," Garcia said when Emily looked to her for permission this time. "I say let them run wild."

"Okay, just don't touch anything," Emily said. She watched as Henry followed Jack out of the office.

"I am so jealous of you it stopped being funny months ago," Garcia said, glaring at Emily. "But, enough talk about how your life is so close to perfect that I could hurt you. Sorry I couldn't come over to your place, but I wanted to talk to just you, and I don't know how much Hotch enjoys suddenly being left with all three kiddies."

"Oh, we can both handle it, but what's up?"

"Well," Garcia said, rolling her chair away from her desk to take Charlotte out of her carrier and smile at her, "the team is leaving for a case in the morning. Morgan and Rossi want Hotch to come along as a consultant. And I think they were trying to get him to come in tonight to talk. Does he know you're here?"

"Yeah, I told him I'd be dropping by to visit once I got the kids." A fear-stricken face crossed Emily's face. "Consulting, huh? Wow…"

"I just wanted to give you the heads up, so you can prepare a speech for him about how he's not allowed to go," Garcia said rather matter-of-factly.

A little grin showed on Emily's lips. "I don't know if that's really my place to say."

"Honey, of course it is. You're raising children with him. And it said in the will that the kids weren't supposed to go to someone who worked for the BAU. So Hotch shouldn't be working for the BAU."

"Well, I think that clause in the will was to make sure that the kids had parents who were home at night. Lots of parents go away on business trips now and then and don't see their kids for a few days. He'd just be gone for a few days. I don't think he'd be violating their wishes."

"Okay, well, what about the fact that it's dangerous?" Garcia went on.

"That never stopped JJ. And Will was a detective. Both dangerous jobs. It was about the hours. She always wanted to be able to be home more, but this was her calling. She saw me and Hotch as a solution to that, obviously, because we'd both left."

"And because she knew you'd both make amazing parents, which you have."

"Thanks," Emily said sheepishly, curling her hands up between her knees. "But really, I think if he wants to go, he should go."

"Do _you_ want him to go? I mean, let's assume he has no opinion one way or the other, and he leaves it up to you. Would you encourage him to go?"

Emily's eyebrows shot up and stayed there. "I guess not."

"Then you don't want him to go. Tell him that. I'm sure he'll listen."

"This isn't my choice. It's really not," Emily said with surprising control, though her gut wrenched at the image in her mind's eye of Hotch hugging and kissing the boys goodbye the next morning, leaving them all alone for some undeterminable amount of time. Maybe it would be a few days, but it could easily be longer. She knew it wasn't really the time away that would bother her. She didn't know what was, though.

"Even if you think it's not your choice, I think you should still have a say. At least tell him exactly how you're feeling. He can take it into consideration as he chooses. I'm sure he'll want to know what you think first."

"Yeah. Anyway, how are you? I feel like we haven't talked in forever."

"It's only been a week or two. Things still okay at home?" Garcia asked, turning the question back on Emily.

"Nice try. Seriously, tell me what's going on with you and Kevin. Taking a summer vacation together or something?"

"Unfortunately, neither of our jobs allow for that, but we've been just fine. His birthday's coming up, though. Let's just say it will involve lots of strawberries, even more whipped cream, and not a lot of clothes."

Emily beamed. "Sounds fantastic. I'll live vicariously. And _don't_ take that the wrong way," she said hastily as soon as she saw Garcia's colorful features come to life even more.

"Somebody's thinking about—"

"Not _that_. Not yet. Just…" Emily frowned in contemplation. "It's been a long time without any flashbacks now. Maybe I'm ready to start thinking about it. I mean, beyond fantasizing about it or something. Actually considering it. Please don't get your hopes up, though," she said all too late as a broad smile stretched from one of Garcia's ears to the other and her blue shadowed eyes popped open wide. "If it does happen, it might not be for a long time. I really don't know."

Garcia attempted to suppress her utter glee. "Well, I guess if you're not sure you're ready, then you're probably not ready. But remember, he wants you in a bad way. I'm not saying you should rush, I'm just saying that maybe you don't have to be ready for the whole nine yards. I think that just kissing would be enough for him," she said with a much more controlled smile.

"It's the sex I don't think I'm ready for quite yet. I don't think I'd have a _problem_ with the more PG-rated kind of stuff. I just have this feeling that if we were to get into that, he'd be ready for sex right away and I wouldn't. I mean, come on, he's a grown man. He's probably getting a little sick of his hand."

"Emily, regardless of the fact that you guys already almost slept together, and the fact that you live together right now and your feelings are pretty much out in the open and there's no question that you want to be together, I don't think Hotch would take this relationship any more quickly than any other relationship. And he's been there for all of this, except for when you guys weren't talking. He was the only one who knew before, and he's been helping you through it again. Do you really think he'd expect you to take your clothes off right away?"

Emily knew there was a lot of truth behind what Garcia was pointing out, but she still had her doubts. "I honestly don't know. There is the possibility that sex _is_ what he wants right now. I mean, he gets plenty of chaste physical affection as it is."

"Yeah, but not in the context of a relationship. It's in the context of a really weird—albeit fantastic—friendship. Guys have feelings, too, and they're not all between their legs. Most of them probably are, but guys do have hearts, and a need for romantic companionship outside of the need for sex. Don't be such a cynic. I'm pretty sure he'd be up for any relationship you'd be up for, and he'd hold off on anything you're not ready for."

"And if he's _not_ willing to take things slow?" Emily challenged.

"Then you stand your ground."

"Yeah, that would be a fun house to live in. As if the sexual frustration isn't bad enough already, let's just pile on some more."

"I really think you need to give him more credit, sweetie. I really don't think you need to, but maybe you should just talk to him about it if you're so worried."

"We haven't even talked about a relationship. I mean, our agreed upon status is still friends only. We haven't actually sat down and talked openly about getting together if and when I'm ready. It's not a plan we've laid out at all."

"Is that something that really needs to be clarified? He only has eyes for you, Emily. And that's always going to be the case. I really think if you just let things happen naturally when the moment's right, that'll be a lot less pressure on yourself. Not to mention far more romantic."

"I don't know," Emily murmured.

"You know what you need?" Garcia asked, handing over Charlotte, who began to fuss. She continued speaking as she rifled through the diaper bag for a jar of baby food.

"A day at the spa?"

"Some time alone with Hotch. And I don't mean in front of the TV once the kids are in bed. In fact, not in the house at all. If I could get out of here tonight, I would totally offer my services, but maybe some other night. Just, go out. You guys need to remember what it's like with just the two of you."

"That sounds nice, but it was never just the two of us. Not really. I mean, that night we had a few too many, yeah, that was just the two of us. And we used to go out once in a while for a drink or something, but—"

"That's what I mean. Rediscover _that. _That's all I'm saying," Garcia said. "Can I feed her?"

"Of course." Emily sighed and set the baby in her carrier again.

"Just give things a chance, Em. The seed's already been planted. Water it and give it a little sunshine or it's never going to take root."

"Do you by chance write greeting cards as a side job?"

"Ooh, no, but that could be a good way to earn some extra cash. I take it you're ready to change the subject?"

Emily half smiled. "Been ready for a while."

"Okay, party pooper. Are _you_ guys going on a summer vacation?"

"I thought we were changing the subject."

"Oh, we are. I'm talking about you as a family now, not just you and Hotch. This is fair game. I don't think she likes this, whatever it is," Garcia said, reading the label on the jar when the baby refused a spoonful of it. "Does this color occur in nature?"

"She'll take it. Just keep trying."

"If you say so. So, vacation plans?"

"Actually, yes. Kind of. We're going out to Sean's next weekend."

"Sean, as in Hotch's too-hot-to-be-biologically-related brother Sean? The one who drives the motorcycle that makes my lady parts go _vroom_?" Garcia stuck her tongue between her teeth and waggled her eyebrows.

"One and the same, yes," Emily said with a little laugh. "I'm looking forward to it. He seems interested in being uncle to all three kids, not just Jack, which is really nice."

"And it's still more than you can say for Jessica, no?"

Emily gave a non-committal shrug. "She apologized."

"Yeah, but she hasn't exactly followed up. Has she been over at all?"

"A few times, yeah. Once every couple of weeks."

"Has she taken interest in Henry and Charlotte?"

"More than before. She's warming up. I didn't expect it to come together all at once. She didn't ask for any of this. I'm just glad she stopped hating me on principle."

"So you think she's warming up. How about your mama?"

"Ha. Funny. I call about once a week and she lets me get in about a minute of small talk, then says she's busy and she'll call me back but never does. Doesn't matter what time of day I call. I don't know what her deal is. It's not like I'm asking her to adopt the kids herself."

"Seriously. Speaking of adoption, you're meeting this week to finalize everything, right?"

Emily smiled. She needed that reminder. "Yeah. I'm excited."

"So am I. I think it'll be good for both of you. It'll make it feel more official. Not that you need a judge to tell you that you love the kids enough, but you know what I mean. What about Jack?"

"What about Jack?" Emily echoed.

"Do you think Hotch wants you to adopt him, too? I mean, he's an equal to Henry and Charlotte in every other aspect of your life. And Hotch finally let you go fifty-fifty on finances the other week, right?"

"Yeah, but I think if he wanted me to adopt Jack, he'd ask. Besides, if we don't adopt Henry and Charlotte, they'd have no legal _parents_. Jack's still got his dad."

Garcia looked up from her task and eyed Emily with slight scrutiny.

"What?" Emily asked in self-defense. "Aaron knows I'd do absolutely anything for Jack. If he wanted me to adopt Jack, he'd have no problem asking."

"Not so sure about that."

"Last time I brought up a Jack-related issue like that, we fought, and shit really hit the fan with Jessica."

"But it ended the way it should have," Garcia said. "Jack gets to stay with Henry and Charlotte. You brought it up and you fought for it."

"I didn't exactly fight for it. I was upset, yeah, and Aaron knew that, but in the end, when he asked Jessica to step down, it wasn't because I'd asked him to."

"Regardless, it still got done. And it wouldn't have happened if you hadn't said anything."

"That was more urgent, though. JJ and Will's passing reminded us that life is short, and it made sense to make sure that we were prepared when it came to the kids. This literally is just a piece of paper right now. If it means something to Aaron, then of course I'd do it. In a heartbeat. But I think he's fine with the way things are, and so am I. Does that sound cold?"

"Not answering."

—

"Hey, Hotch," Morgan said with a smile when Hotch showed up at his office door.

"Hey." Hotch had just seen Morgan the weekend prior at a get together, along with the entire team, so he didn't feel the need for hugs or handshakes. "Is Emily around here somewhere?"

Morgan pointed down at Reid's desk, where he was fishing through his desk drawers for pencils and blank sheets of paper for the boys. "Unless Jack learned how to drive..."

"Ah." Hotch made a move to walk out of the office and call the boys upstairs, but Morgan put a hand up.

"They're fine. Reid was just packing up to go home, anyway. He's not actually busy."

"Never mind the fact that he might have a life."

"Good to know you're still your old hilarious self," Morgan said with his trademark toothy smile.

"What brings me here?" Hotch asked, thinking he knew the answer, but not wanting to be too presumptuous.

"I'm gonna cut to the chase because I want to get home and get a good night's sleep before we go. We're leaving for a case in the morning. Rossi and I think it would be good to have you along for this particular trip. What do you say?"

Hotch's face flashed with a tinge of amusement. "What took you so long? I've been gone for over a year. I'm almost insulted you didn't ask me sooner."

"Well, you were busy getting used to be a single dad at home with Jack all the time, then when Will and—"

"I know," Hotch said. "I was just joking. I figured that was why you wanted to talk to me. I can't, though. I thought about it all the way over here, and there are far more cons than pros. I'm sorry."

"You think Emily can't handle the kids on her own for a few days?" Morgan asked.

"I know she _can._ I don't think she'd love it. I know I wouldn't be excited about that kind of surprise. That and I honestly don't want to leave them all for that long. As much as the BAU was my home for so many years, this is my home now. I'm used to being home every day, and they're used to it too."

Morgan leaned back in his chair and put the end of an expensive pen between his lips. "I'm not gonna lie, Hotch. I was expecting a different answer."

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you one. The offer is appealing, but I need to say no. Best of luck, though. I wish I could stick around, but Jack is going to Jessica's tonight. He hasn't been making it there every week and he's really looking forward to going."

"Get out of here," Morgan said, grinning. "Just don't get any more domestic on me. My teeth hurt."

Hotch gave a friendly wave and walked toward his former office to the stairs. The space was still unoccupied. Reid insisted he liked the open air that the floor of the bullpen afforded him, and the other units on the floor liked to remain isolated, so no one wanted the office. Making sure no one was looking, though he wasn't sure why, Hotch tried to open the door, pleased to find that it was unlocked. The cleaners had obviously still been cleaning here every week. Hotch didn't flip the light switch, but he did stride guiltily over to the desk. His chair was gone—not surprising, as many office fights often revolved around who had gone the longest in the worst chair, and nice chairs had sometimes even served as wagers in playful bets. But his desk still stood there, the setting sun outside bouncing a soft light off the top, inviting Hotch to run his hand over the polished wood surface. He did just that. It wasn't until he laid a hand on his desk that he reconsidered the decision he'd made almost instantaneously.

This _had_ been his home for so long. He knew he would be remiss to rob the career of the credit for all it had given him. Of course it had taken his marriage, and then Haley's life. It had also taken five years of father-son time from him. But part of him always had to justify his staying with the BAU, and that part of him was rising to the surface again. He now remembered that this job had given him such a sense of purpose that no other job before or since had been able to provide, in terms of a career. He also would never have met Emily had he left when Jack was born, or at least wouldn't have gotten so close to her if he'd left when his marriage had gone downhill. Morgan's offer was beginning to look more than appealing.

That was until Hotch glanced out the window into the bullpen and saw Emily through the open blinds. She stood by Reid's desk, presumably making small talk with him.

When Emily happened to look up at Hotch's old office and see him standing in the window, he was already looking in another direction. She felt herself lose a little color in her cheeks when he exited the office, shut the door behind him, and joined her, Reid, and the children with a look on his face that she couldn't quite place. He looked happy, but whether content or excited, she wasn't sure. "Hi," she said, her voice carrying a hint of the uncertainty she felt.

"Hey. Swap cars? I can take Jack over to Jessica's if you want."

"I'm good. Can you carry the car seat, though? She's kind of happy being out of it. Aren't you?" she added with a squeak, looking down at Charlotte, who sat on her hip with a relaxed look on her face.

"Sure. Everybody ready?"

"Bye," Jack said to Reid, surprising him with a hug around the waist. Reid sported a familiar awkward smile and patted Jack on the back.

"Bye, Jack. Bye-bye, Henry," Reid said, squatting down to see if Henry would come to him, which he did. "Bye, guys," he added to Emily and Hotch.

"Have a good weekend," Hotch said with a wave. He walked over to the glass doors and held them open for Emily and the kids.

"Can I press the elevator button, Daddy?" Jack asked.

Rossi met Morgan out by the railing outside their offices. "What'd he say?" Rossi asked.

"He turned it down."

"You know, that would have surprised me a while ago. But not anymore."

"He's a lot more serious about all of this than I gave him credit for, I guess," Morgan said with a shrug. He watched the glass doors shut behind the family of five. "What exactly is going on there? You know, between him and—"

"Hell if I know anymore."

—

Emily left the car running with the windows down while she quickly brought Jack to Jessica's front door. Jessica was already waiting with a smile for them both.

"Hey, sweetie," she greeted Jack. "Go bring your stuff up to your room, okay?"

"Okay. Bye, Mommy," he said to Emily, wrapping his arms around her as high as he could. She crouched down to give him a hug and a kiss.

"I love you. Have a good time." Jack took off. Emily had uttered this proclamation in front of Jessica before, at home and when dropping Jack off on occasion. She was beyond glad to be comfortable enough to say it around Jessica, who had, as an added bonus, also outwardly seemed used to the idea of Jack calling Emily his mommy. Emily was also grateful that Jack, since he'd been angry with her and had compared her directly to Haley, had not done so again. Much like Hotch had said Jack would, he was right back to normal the next day.

"Everything okay?" Emily asked furtively when she sensed that Jessica wanted to talk with her.

"Yeah," Jessica replied, waving away any of Emily's worries. "I was just wondering if you might want to leave all three kids here for the night. Or at least for the evening, whichever." Jessica was going to give Emily a chance to answer, but when she saw the flabbergasted look on her face, she kept going. "I just figure you guys might need a sitter sometime, and Henry and Charlotte seemed to have taken all right to me, if I'm not mistaken. Might as well give it a test run, no?"

The shock on Emily's face couldn't have been more obvious. "Oh, uh, sure. If you're sure."

"I already brought up the playpen I had from when Jack was a baby, so I'd say I'm pretty sure."

Emily's awe transformed to genuine warmth. "Are you _really_ sure? Not that I doubt your ability."

"If I run into any problems, I'll let you know. But I'd love to."

"The baby, too? You're sure?"

Jessica rolled her eyes in a friendly way that Emily would never have expected and led the way out to the car. "I'm sure. Let's just check with them."

—

"I really need to stop letting you take the kids places," Hotch said when Emily got home empty handed a while later. "You keep losing them." He was seated at the counter, dressed down for the evening already, reading through that morning's paper purely out of boredom. There were always more productive things he could be doing, but being productive sounded quite repulsive on a night like tonight.

Emily smiled, though only halfheartedly. She still hadn't had a chance to talk to Hotch about his consulting offer. She still hadn't even figured out what kind of look he'd worn earlier, and his expression hadn't changed since then. "Jessica wanted to keep them for the night. Actually, she offered just the evening. She eventually just said assume the whole night unless things got scary. I know," she marveled, for a moment forgetting her worries and smiling when she saw a look on Hotch's face that she was sure mirrored hers when Jessica had made the offer. "Crazy, huh?"

"You could definitely say that."

"I hope it goes well. It'd be nice to know someone else who can take all three kids if need be, just in case. And I'm glad she wanted to."

"Progress," Hotch said.

"Yeah." Emily's elation wore off more quickly than she would have liked when she saw the return of Hotch's mysterious look from before. "So you're not going to ask me why I didn't ask you why you were at the BAU today?"

"I assumed a little birdie probably let you know, judging from the fact that you didn't seem surprised to see me."

"Okay, then, what did you tell them?"

Hotch wanted to be playful and make Emily sweat, but when he spotted the sincere worry in her eyes, he had mercy. "I said no," he answered, ducking into the fridge for a beer he knew Emily couldn't deny him.

"You did?" Emily said, trying not to sound too happy. The longer she'd thought about Hotch saying yes, the less she'd liked it, and she couldn't pinpoint why. She knew she could go a few days without him and not die of misery, and she knew she could handle the children on her own. She arrived to the conclusion that she might have split Hotch into two different personas—BAU and post-BAU—and that she felt much more secure with the latter.

"Yeah. Why do you look so surprised?"

It almost angered Emily—at least annoyed her—that Hotch sounded so casual about it all. She'd spent the evening a bundle of nerves while he'd been having a perfectly nice Friday evening. "I just—I saw you standing in your office, and you had this weird look on your face, nostalgic maybe? Anyway, I couldn't figure you out."

"I told Morgan no right off the bat," Hotch said, suddenly putting his beer back in the fridge. "When I went into my old office I reconsidered it just a little bit, but…" He shrugged. He didn't want to admit to Emily that it had been the sight of her and the kids—his family—that had changed his mind. To him, that wasn't a manly enough reason. He didn't know when he'd suddenly cared so much about being macho around her—he'd already been emasculated enough just by raising three children with her. Trips for diapers, finding pacifiers in his pockets, and parading around with the boys in matching bathing suits were just the tip of the iceberg.

"Can I be honest?" Emily asked shyly, taking a seat next to Hotch.

"Please." Hotch folded up his paper and put it aside.

"I'm glad you said no, and I can't really put into words why. Just like you can't explain why you said no. Is that awful of me? I mean, if you'd wanted to go, I would've gritted my teeth and tried to sound excited for you, and I would've encouraged you to go, but I'm really glad it didn't have to come with that."

Hotch let show a grin that made Emily wonder jokingly to herself what he'd been smoking that day. _Why the hell is he so happy? _

"Let's go to the movies," Hotch said.

Emily's eyes narrowed. "The movies?"

"You know, the place with, well, movies…"

Emily's gaze moved from Hotch up to the ceiling. "I don't remember the last time I saw a movie. And I certainly don't remember what movie it was."

"All the more reason to go, no?"

"I guess," Emily said, her heart secretly jumping at the idea of a date night, no matter how platonic it was on the surface. Garcia's advice about waiting for the right moment and allowing things to transpire naturally rang through her head now. Jessica had taken the children—surely not with the aim of giving Hotch and Emily time to go on a date of any kind, but she had taken them off their hands nonetheless—and Hotch not only wanted to spend his Friday night with her, but didn't even want to leave her (technically, all of them, but including her) for even a few days to do a job he had once loved. Garcia had talked Emily's ears off about signs, and now they seemed to be flying all over the place. They had the night to themselves, and Hotch was thinking in all the right directions, as far as Emily was concerned.

"Please, don't get so excited," Hotch said, putting his wallet in his back jeans pocket.

"No, sorry, it does sound nice. Let me change really quick, though."

—

"Do you know what any of these movies are about?" Emily mumbled to Hotch as they stood at a board displaying a list of movies and times.

"No, but everything started fifteen minutes ago. Do you want our ten dollars' worth or not?"

"Fine, let's just pick a title that sounds interesting."

They agreed on something in a hurry and Hotch whipped out his debit card before Emily could find her wallet.

"What happened to _my_ ten dollars' worth?" Emily asked as Hotch bought their tickets.

"It was my idea to go out. It's on me."

"Fine, I'll get the popcorn."

"The popcorn I can't eat?"

"You can have some. You've been doing pretty well," she said as non-condescendingly as she could. It came out just right, which pleased her, as she sometimes sensed that Hotch didn't appreciate her policing over his diet.

"Are you going to buy ten dollars' worth of popcorn for me?" Hotch asked on their way to the concession stand.

"Why would I do that?"

"Well, you're trying to make up for the cost of a ticket, no?"

"Good point. You can get a drink, too. That'll get us there," Emily said, still searching for her wallet and making a mental note not to carry such a large purse.

"Or…"

"Or what?"

"We could just get a—"

"Do not."

"Emily, it makes sense. Especially if we're fifty-fifty now. We can each have our own savings, but let's just pool together the money for the mortgage, groceries, bills, daycare, and cash for incidentals, all the things like this where we bicker over who's going to pay. Remember, _you're_ the one who insisted on going from sixty-forty to fifty-fifty. It would make _me_ feel a lot better if we just had a joint checking account."

"Why do you have to throw stuff like this at me when I'm not allowed to be mad at you?" Emily huffed. "You're such a pain in the ass."

"But I'm your favorite pain in the ass, right?"

"No, that would be the kids, if I'm allowed to refer to them like that."

"I'm pretty sure you're not allowed to, so the title's mine."

"Congratulations."

"So you'll do it?" Hotch asked hopefully, placing a hand without a thought on Emily's opposite shoulder, standing somewhat behind her.

"Psssh, fine. You owe me big time."

"Correction: until we're finically united, you still owe me ten."

"Keep it up and you're not getting any popcorn." Emily all of a sudden wondered what people in front of and behind them in line must be thinking about their conversation, if they were listening in. "This is nice," she said, not wanting anyone to think she was a downright bitch. "Having a night out, you know?"

"It is."

"It was a good idea. I wonder how the kids are doing, though. Or how Jessica's doing." Emily took her phone out of her pocket and checked it.

Hotch plucked Emily's phone away from her. "Fine, I'm sure. She's great with kids. We'll leave our phones on in case she calls, but I'm sure she won't."

"Is it wrong that I miss them?" Emily asked, not even bothering to fight to get her phone back. "Even just a little?"

"Yes. It hasn't even been an hour since you last saw them. Relax a little. It's Friday night and everyone you're spending time with is potty-trained and has a driver's license."

Emily giggled. She was going to argue further just for the sake of something to say—a habit she knew was annoying—when Hotch stepped over so that he was centered behind her. He placed his free hand on her other shoulder and rubbed so gently that to anyone else, it probably looked like he'd merely placed his hands there. Emily started to tell herself to ignore the chills that radiated from where he'd placed his hands, but reversed it, remembering Garcia's advice, which she rather liked at this point in time. She instead let herself enjoy this moment. She also let herself love the feeling of his arm around her seat back once they found their theater.

"What's with all the kids?" she asked.

"Judging from this trailer, this might be a movie we should've taken the kids to. Maybe not one we want to be seeing of our own volition."

"What's it rated?" Emily asked, leaning sideways into Hotch, who'd chosen to sit rather close to begin with, to get out her ticket stub. "Ha. It's rated PG. That would explain the children and the animated trailers. Let's get out of here."

"And go where, exactly?"

"To another theater. Come on." They rushed to another theater in the multiplex and saw the beginnings of a war movie. "Better than nothing," she said, leading them in. Hotch reclaimed his previous position, clearly happy to be sitting like this with her watching any movie. Emily wanted to laugh at his shamelessness, but she knew she was just as bad. She felt like she was on her first date again, barely focusing on the movie because her senses were overloaded by him—his position, every touch, whether intentional or not, his scent, even the rhythm of his breathing when she could hear it. The only bits of the movie that fully caught her attention were a couple of obligatory love scenes, which two months ago might have made her squirm in a bad way, but at this point in time elicited a pleasant sensation in which she again allowed herself to delight.

"You know what I think?" Emily asked, on somewhat of a high when they got home three hours later. Her mood had so drastically changed from earlier in the evening that she wondered if she was physically well.

"That they should have a time maximum on movies?" Hotch asked, stifling a yawn.

"That, and I think we should order a pizza."

"I've been _that_ good?"

Emily frowned. "I'm not too controlling, am I?"

"Wrong question."

"Okay, well, am I really bothering you?"

"Relax," he said with a short smile. "It doesn't bug me…most of the time. I think I need the monitoring. I've never really had to watch what I eat before. Are you serious about pizza?"

"God yes," Emily moaned, walking up to Hotch and patting his pockets until she found where he'd stashed her phone. She helped herself to it. "I'm starving. Even after eight pounds of popcorn. I need some real food."

"Pizza qualifies as real food?"

"Ooh, you know what else sounds good?" Emily said, grinning as she dialed their favorite pizza place and ignored Hotch's comment.

"What?"

Emily put the phone to her ear, then reached into the cabinet above the stove and handed Hotch the cigarettes and lighter.

"What's with the sudden indulgence in all of our bad habits?" Hotch asked curiously.

Emily already knew what a good mood she was in, but now she was realizing how obvious her giddiness was to Hotch. She toned it down, lowering her voice until it sounded as nonchalant as it was going to sound tonight. "Just in a nice mood." She grabbed the beer Hotch had put back in the fridge earlier, as well as another, and followed Hotch out back to the deck.

"I'm going to sleep like a baby tonight," Emily said as she lit the last cigarette in the pack and Hotch took the last slice of pizza from the box. She had half a mind simply to invite Hotch to stay in her room—she knew he wanted to—but she didn't want to be quite that forward. Going into his room and crawling into bed with him would be equally so. There was always the option of falling asleep on the couch with him, but she could tell from the tired look in his eyes that he probably wouldn't be up for any television that night. It was already somewhere in the wee hours of the morning. Watching a long movie, eating too much food, downing a couple of beers each, and chain-smoking an entire pack of cigarettes equated to about five hours of quality time. Emily was worn out and so full that she was tired as well. She wouldn't be able to blame Hotch a bit if he bade her goodnight and went up to his room.

"You and me both," Hotch said, emitting a low groan, then stifling yet another yawn. "I don't see this side of midnight too often anymore. I think I'd better call it a night after this one." He turned his neck lazily toward Emily as he took the last cigarette from her. "Not that we have any left."

"I'm getting eaten alive out here anyway," Emily fibbed, not wanting Hotch to sense her dismay in hearing that he was turning in. "Did you reserve our rooms for next weekend?"

"Singular," Hotch said, trying to blow a smoke ring, but remembering he'd never mastered the task when he'd been a regular smoker. "They didn't have two rooms free on the same floor, even. I figured it'd be fine if we just stayed together. That okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine. As long as we have someplace to stay. Sean said his couch isn't even comfortable and that's all he's got besides his bed."

"I know." Emily knew there was a great likelihood that she was making every bit of this up in her head, but it felt to her like Hotch was stalling on going to bed. He'd been yawning nonstop for an hour, but had sat by her side even though they'd just been sitting in relative silence, enjoying not having anything of vast importance to talk about. And now he was ending their conversation but not moving. She wondered if he was waiting for some sort of sign or invitation. She knew in the back of her mind that all that was probably going on in Hotch's head was wanting to finish the last cigarette before throwing in the towel. But she couldn't combat the warming feeling that he was no more keen than she was on the idea of going to bed alone. "Here, you have the rest," he said after another quiet minute, holding the cigarette out for Emily. Before she could say anything at all, he was out of his chair. "I'll lock up out front. Goodnight." Emily's heart was beginning to sink, but it bobbed up a bit when he bent over to kiss her on the forehead. As innocent as the gesture should have been construed, she knew—for they kissed the children like that daily—she preferred to interpret it otherwise.

"'Night," she replied with a serene smile, despite the fact that she knew their little night together had come to a close. Her forehead still tingled, as silly as it felt. "Keep your phone on."

**A/N: Please leave a review! I really appreciate them in any form (long, short, insightful, all caps, etc.)!**


	77. Showers and Murder Mysteries

**A/N: Please enjoy and review! **

"When are we gonna get to Uncle Sean's?" Jack asked as Emily started to load a couple of small suitcases into the back of the SUV.

"I don't know, sweetie. Go ask your dad. He's the one who's the slow poke."

"I'm right here," Hotch said, somewhat short of breath from rushing. He toted the baby—who also had them running behind after refusing breakfast—along with him, and Henry followed in his footsteps.

"About time," Emily said, letting out just enough impatience in her voice, but filling the rest with good humor. It was an otherwise perfect Saturday morning, even if it was a bit early for them to be going anywhere. "Next time you take twenty extra minutes in the shower, maybe you should wake up twenty minutes early." She threw a playful look Hotch's way and saw an oddly guilty look on his face.

Little did Emily know, this wasn't the first time Hotch had taken a bit of extra time in the shower. It was only this morning that she had noticed. He usually only took a few minutes, more interested in achieving a quick release while going unnoticed, but this morning he'd let his fantasy get a little too involved, too elaborate, and Emily had been rather short with him ever since he'd started them out late.

He tried to keep from feeling embarrassed at the thought of Emily catching onto his habit, but her instant look of realization put an end to that effort immediately. He rolled his eyes, then hid his face with the task of getting the kids in the car.

"Got it. Sorry," Emily said, wincing after she did, knowing then that she should have played dumb. She couldn't say she sympathized directly with Hotch's situation, as she hadn't let her hands—or any object—wander to her nether regions in what she could only guess would be deemed far too long by anyone else. However, she knew she couldn't fault him for doing what her body simply hadn't asked her to do. The thoughts of making love to him had returned full force, but had somehow not driven her to that point.

Five minutes into the drive, Hotch still felt uneasy. He could see that Emily was staring straight ahead in the passenger seat, but he still felt like her eyes were on him. "Who wants to listen to some Beatles?" he asked everyone.

Emily suppressed her annoyed, Beatles-induced eye roll in favor of Hotch not having to spend the next three or four hours in some cruel, uncomfortable hell where the woman who couldn't be with him was envisioning his pitiful self being his own best friend while the water beat down on his shoulders. She happily found a CD in the glove box and slid it into the player.

Hotch distracted himself by teaching Henry the words to all the classics (Jack had known them before Henry's age), and by the time they rolled into Lynchburg, just south of Sweet Briar, he was at ease again, and Emily was thankful for it. She'd been looking forward to this weekend, not only to get to know Sean better (and for the kids to do the same), but also for the change of scenery and for it being their first vacation, even if it didn't involve time off of work for either her or Hotch. Being uncomfortable around Hotch, especially after the last week, which had been blissful, would have put a serious damper on things.

"Are we there yet?" Jack asked only a block from Sean's apartment.

"Yes, we are, and thank you for not asking a thousand times," Hotch said sincerely. He shared an anxious grin with Emily as he pulled in to Sean's apartment. His brother was waiting out on the steps smoking a cigarette that he extinguished before the children saw, but not before Hotch did.

"Just make sure they don't see you smoking, please," Hotch said as he embraced his brother.

"No worries, got it." Sean crouched down and held his arms open for both boys, and Henry seemed to remember him well. "Hey, little dudes. How was the ride? Did you help drive a little? Hey," he said to Emily, who eventually made an appearance. She mustered up her best smile, genuinely happy to see him, but still not loving the fact that her last visit with Sean had involved her worst flashback and him getting up in the middle of the night to help.

"Hey, how are you?" she replied.

"Fantastic. All right, everyone, it's not much, as in there's probably not enough places for everyone to sit, but welcome to my humble abode. Come on up."

—

"What's for lunch?" Jack asked the second the family, sans Sean, was situated at a round table in Sean's humble diner in Sweet Briar. He had certainly meant it when he'd told his brother he'd opened a "little" restaurant.

"Whatever your uncle decides to make for you," Emily answered. "He said it was a surprise."

"Liver and onions," Hotch said from his seat next to Emily which, from a practical standpoint, was not the best choice. This meant that Henry and Jack sat next to each other without an adult directly on either side, Hotch realized, but for now the entire family was happy, Hotch especially so.

"What's liver?" Jack asked, his nose scrunched. He was not a fan of onions, which was not news to anyone.

"It's a—_what_?" Hotch asked Emily under his breath when she tapped him on the leg with the back of her hand.

"Don't tease him about that. You know him and food. He would not find that funny." The smirk on her lips and the airiness of her voice told Hotch he wasn't actually in trouble. "Don't worry, no liver and onions," she said to Jack, successfully averting what would have been a crisis.

By the time Sean personally served everyone's dishes and sat down to eat their late lunch with them, Henry had made his way to Emily's lap and was hugging her middle, ready for an early nap and not interested at all in the idea of food.

"What's this?" Jack asked his uncle.

"A peanut butter and jelly panini, buddy. Try it, you'll like it." Jack made a face and the baby cried, as if on cue.

"Anything on the agenda?" Hotch asked, ignoring a tantalizing sandwich that his stomach yearned for in favor of quieting Charlotte.

"Whatever you guys want to do. Gave my sous-chef the reigns for the weekend."

"_Sous-chef_?" Hotch asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hey, this isn't gourmet, but it's a real restaurant, and it's still open, so that's saying something," Sean said, clearly self-conscious.

"Aaron, come on," Emily reprimanded, trying to stab at a salad with a cranky, squirmy toddler in her lap.

"I'm just teasing. It's a nice place. Isn't it the same building that used to be…?" Hotch stared at the ceiling while he tried to picture the main street during his childhood.

"Mama Joy's. Yup. So, what're you guys up for? Still the same boring little town it always was, but Lynchburg's got a kids' museum, mini-golf, parks, stuff like that. You remember," he said to his brother.

"Mini-golf!" Jack shouted with a mouth full of melted peanut butter.

"Is Henry okay?" Sean asked, nodding toward Henry, who burrowed further into Emily at the mention of his name.

"Nap time is right about now and he didn't sleep in the car," Emily explained. "You know what, maybe you guys should go out and I'll stay back at the apartment with Henry and Charlotte. They can get their sleep on and you guys can have a little bonding time."

"You sure? He might be okay with a quick nap in the car on the way there," Hotch said.

"No, he needs a full nap, don't you, baby?" she cooed, leaning back in her chair and rocking side to side. His whiny protest was all the convincing anyone needed.

—

"I like how she did that," Sean remarked with a smirk once Jack toddled off ahead of his father and uncle toward the first hole.

"Did what?"

"Gave us a little chit-chat time."

"Chit-chat?"

"You know—"

"I know what chit-chat means. I just wonder when things did such a one-eighty that you're more interested in my life than I am in yours. Not that I'm not interested in your life, but you know what I mean."

Sean shot his older brother a cocky smile. "Spill. What's going on?"

"With what?"

"Don't make me say names unless you want the little guy to know."

"It's your turn, Sean. Jack, how many times did you hit the ball before it went in?" Hotch asked. "I lost count." He knew it had been at least five.

"Only two, Daddy!" Jack reported, familiar enough with the rules of golf from a few games of mini-golf with his dad here and there to know that lower numbers were better.

"Two, huh? Wow, Sean, did you hear that?"

"Nice job, kid. Why don't you go start on the next hole?"

Hotch shot Sean a look. "Don't get too far ahead of us, Jack. Stay where I can see you."

"All right, Aaron. Don't tell me there's nothing going on."

"Why the hell are you such a gossip?" Hotch fussed as Sean set down a neon green ball and tapped it down the green without any strategy.

"Since your life got interesting and mine got boring."

"Owning a restaurant's boring?"

"In Sweet Briar? Yeah, a little," Sean said, chuckling. "Compared to what you have going on, at least. What's gone on since I visited?"

"Well, Emily and I do have some news, but I think she'd like to share it together." Hotch saw the look in Sean's eyes. "Not that kind of news. Nothing on the relationship front."

"Seriously? I mean, I know you said she's got some issues, for lack of a better word—not to be insensitive—but you guys kind of remind me of a married couple. And you look at each other differently than you did when I was out to visit."

"You need to hang out with fewer women and more men, Sean."

"_You_ just need to get you some. And I mean that in the nicest way possible. I know you're not a dog. You want more than just the S-E-X," he said furtively, glancing ahead to make sure Jack was out of earshot, but deciding on spelling just in case. "But if you're asking me, she's into you."

"That's funny, because I'm _not_ asking you," Hotch pointed out shortly, wondering woefully why playing golf with someone always meant being interrogated. He appreciated the love, but not Sean's conversational style.

"But you're not arguing with me?"

"I really don't understand why you're so interested in my romantic life. And none of this is really new since last time you saw me. Nothing's really changed," he lied, thinking about the night before, when he had hinted to Jessica that he and Emily had to pack for their trip. She'd offered to keep all three children for the evening, but Hotch and Emily had spent all of thirty minutes packing. They'd guiltily spent the rest of their child-free time curled up together on the couch in front of the television, chowing down on a bag of gummy bears they'd found in the cabinet. The night before had involved an exchange of much-needed back rubs once the kids were in bed, and on Wednesday, they'd actually made an effort and gotten together for the weekly lunch they'd never actually made weekly. But Hotch knew that telling Sean the truth would get him nothing but encouragement that he, Hotch, didn't need. He hoped that if Emily was ready, things would keep moving along nicely like they were.

—

"Everything all right?" Emily asked Hotch in private that evening, a couple of hours after a big dinner. Sean had rented a few family friendly movies ahead of time in case some forecasted showers drove them inside, which ended up being the case, and was currently finishing one up in the living room with the boys. The baby even sat in his lap. Hotch and Emily had managed to find themselves alone in the cramped kitchen, out of everyone else's view.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry about Henry earlier. We would've liked to have you out with us."

"It's okay. I figure it gave you guys a chance to catch up, right?"

"If you did that at all on purpose, there will be hell to pay."

"Did he get a little nosy?"

"Think Strauss."

"But cuter," Emily said with a little giggle as she closed the only two inches left between them and leaned into him. She smiled with her cheek against his chest as he circled his arms around her. "You're not really mad at me, are you?" she asked, certain that he wasn't, but craving his attention.

"Of course not. You know what, we need to let him know the big news before we head back to the hotel tonight."

"I like how you call it 'big news' when it doesn't really change our day to day lives at all."

"Hey, you texted everyone from the team the second we left the courthouse on Tuesday. Don't tell me you don't think it's big news."

"Hey, I had to. Everyone was blowing up my phone that morning telling me to text as soon as we got out."

"Everyone being Penelope Garcia?"

"Oh come on, you know everyone cared."

"I know they did. Come on, I think their movie's over. It's getting late. We should head back to the hotel soon."

Emily moaned barely audibly at the prospect of leaving the cocoon formed by Hotch's arms. She led the way into the living room to find a fort constructed from the couch, its cushions, some pillows, and a couple of bed sheets.

"We were out of the room for three minutes," Hotch muttered to Emily.

"Can we stay here tonight, Daddy?" Jack asked, running up to Hotch and throwing his arms around one of his dad's legs.

"Where'd your uncle go?"

"Under here." Sean's muffled voice came from somewhere under the mess of cushions and sheets. "They can stay. We built a fort."

"I see that," Hotch said.

"Please?" Jack pleaded, tugging on Hotch's t-shirt.

"I don't see why not," Emily said, her hand floating across Hotch's lower back, seemingly of its own volition and thankfully unnoticed by Jack, who was too busy gazing up longingly at his father to care about anything else.

"You sure?" Hotch asked Sean, who emerged from the homemade fort with Henry crawling out behind him.

"Absolutely."

After getting some overnight supplies for the boys out of their suitcases, Hotch and Emily bade everyone a goodnight and left with the baby in tow.

"So much for the 'big news,'" Emily teased once they were back on the road.

"I didn't want it to be a side note. We can tell him tomorrow," Hotch said with a small smile. _Before or after I kill him?_ he wondered, but completely in jest.

—

"Should we take her out and set up the playpen?" Hotch asked quietly, nodding toward Charlotte, who slept in the car seat he carried.

Emily shut the hotel room door quietly, shaking her head. "She's been cranky today. Let's just let her sleep there. Besides, _I'm_ not going back out to get that thing."

"I wish Sean would have said he lived in Lynchburg before I reserved a room here. Would've been a bit nicer," Hotch said, flipping on the light in the bathroom and finding two moths. When Emily didn't answer, he continued rambling. "And I sill can't believe Sean wanted to keep the boys. He's taken to them better than I could have imagined, but still…"

"It's great," Emily said with a smile, taking out her earrings and placing them on the dresser. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the two queen size beds. An image of them only using one crossed her mind, and she didn't shake it away.

"Mind watching some TV?" Hotch asked as he sat at the foot of his bed to take off his shoes. "Not really tired yet."

"Me neither. Sounds good." Emily took some pajamas with her into the bathroom, changed, and performed her nighttime grooming rituals. When she reemerged, Hotch was already in his own pajamas and under the covers, flipping channels. "Anything good?" she asked, climbing into her bed, unconsciously on the side closest to Hotch, who, to her dismay, didn't seem to notice she'd even crawled in.

"Typical late night garbage. Infomercials, murder mysteries, ads for singles hotlines, Girls Gone Wild…take your pick."

"Murder mysteries. Ooh, let's see who can build the best profiles."

"You're on," Hotch said with a slight twist of his lips. He stopped on a program outlining the killing career of Peter Redding. "Okay, maybe not that one. We know how that ends," he said with a dark voice.

"You know, this might be a problem. I think we knew about every single serial killer out there."

Hotch shook his head in doubt. "I'm sure we didn't. Look, this guy doesn't look familiar."

"That's Joe Belser."

"Oh, the case after the funeral, right. You never did let me study that case while I was at home, you know."

"Because you were supposed to be on a leave of absence."

"That was nice and all, but because of that, I was at a disadvantage just now. Not quite fair."

"Stop whining and turn the channel. Okay, we definitely haven't seen him before," Emily said once Hotch found the next show.

"Disorganized," Hotch said after a few minutes.

"Anger excitation rapist."

"Oh, I didn't even think, I'm sorry," Hotch said in a quiet hurry, fumbling for the remote.

"Don't, I'm okay," Emily objected.

"There are plenty of other channels."

"Yeah, but we found a killer we haven't already profiled. It should be fun. I'm okay."

Hotch didn't even bother to hide his skepticism. "All right, but tell me if you change your mind."

"Yes, sir." They listened in together.

_Ann Singer, the second of DeVos' seven victims, was found face down in a river, weighed down by a chain tied to a cinderblock. An autopsy revealed that she had been—"_

Hotch turned the channel once the pallid body, with the breasts and genitals barely blurred out, faded into view.

"Hey, I'm fine," Emily said, making a wild reach for the remote and catching Hotch off guard.

"You know, people who are afraid of spiders or snakes don't force themselves to play with spiders or snakes."

"This is different. This isn't a phobia."

"It stems from trauma. So do many phobias. And sex crimes aren't something you have to deal with anymore, so there's no need for you to put on a brave face."

"Who said I was putting on a brave face?" Emily said lightly, wishing Hotch would tone things down. They were sleeping alone in the same room. She had other things on her mind that she would rather be focusing on than putting up with Hotch's attempts to protect her, as sweet as they were. If anything, his protectiveness made her want to climb in bed with him even more, but he sounded too wound up for her liking.

"You know I didn't mean it that way," Hotch said softly.

Emily dished up a smile. "I know. Let's just watch this. It's interesting." She changed the channel back, then batted at her pillows until they were just right. She could see Hotch's eyes linger on her for a few moments in her peripheral vision but decided not to pick on him about it.

"I really don't think we should be watching this," Hotch voiced after only a few minutes. "I really don't see the point."

Very rarely did Hotch's need to protect Emily truly bother her. And even now, when all she wanted to do was pretend to watch television while she daydreamed, his insistence was more captivating than anything. Knowing full well that this could be the impetus behind something long-awaited, something that she felt she was finally ready for, she turned off the television. "Are you coming over here or am I coming over there?" she asked.

"What?" His brow showing every single wrinkle, Hotch rolled his head to the side and inspected Emily. A soft but not terribly seductive smile made her face glow on its own, without a need for the harsh lamp light. Not needing her answer, he folded back his covers and sat at the edge of his bed. "Are you sure?"

"It's just us," Emily said with a shrug of her bare shoulders, her hair sliding behind her. She resisted the urge to lick her lips at the sight of Hotch, only in boxers and a t-shirt, walking around the foot of her bed to turn back the covers on the other side and slip beneath them. She was suddenly keenly aware of all five of her senses, just like she had been at the movies a week ago—and like she had been on a near-daily basis lately. A chain of tiny explosions was triggered throughout her body, setting every single hair on end, as they met in the middle of the bed and she found the crook of his open arm with ease. "Ready to go to sleep now?"

Hotch's reply was to reach over Emily and try and reach the lamp, but when he couldn't, she rolled back and did it for him. The assault on her senses resumed when she reclaimed her place. A trace of his cologne was left, mingling with salty remnants of perspiration from being out on a hot day, then spending the evening in a muggy apartment. The room was pitch black and her eyes hadn't adapted yet, so that was one sense that was safe. The tip of her tongue tasted exactly what she smelled. Her ears picked up the sound of his t-shirt rustling against it, then honed in on his deep breathing, his lungs expanding and lifting her head as his chest rose. Her hand smoothed across his abdomen and around his side, affording her fingers the chance to explore, and when they did just that, Hotch's breath faltered just a little.

Emily almost didn't hear Hotch's "goodnight" over the violent thrashing of her heart. She returned his salutation in some odd midpoint between a whisper and her normal speaking voice, almost squeaking, but he apparently thought nothing of it. She let out a contented moan and turned in his arms, her hand joining his when his rested in front of her stomach. Sleep was the last thing on her mind as his thumb stroked up and down hers.

Hotch was nowhere near sleep either, his mind roaming to that morning, when he'd fantasized about something much more sexual—but somehow not nearly as intimate—as what they partook in at this moment. The guilt plagued him, but it didn't stop his vivid imagination, his impatient heart. Her erratic breathing told him she wasn't drifting off, so he removed his hand from hers and used it to move a lonely lock of hair from her shoulder. Just a simple brushing of his thumb on her cheek in the dark reminded him of how utterly stunning she was—he no longer needed the fantasies, so he tucked them away—and he couldn't help but voice his appreciation when his lips zeroed in on her shoulder. "You're so beautiful."

A heavier than expected sigh made its way past Emily's lips when Hotch's mouth, softer than she remembered it ever having been, and recently wetted with his tongue, pressed with painstaking care against her skin. She let him take his time, kissing where he pleased, dotting her shoulder then neck with equally ginger kisses. When he got to her jaw line, he shifted his weight so that he half covered her. She read him as easily as ever, rolling onto her back and meeting the faint shimmer of his eyes in the otherwise dark room.

**A/N: Please leave a review if you have a second. I love to read them!**


	78. In the Heat of the Moment

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**

Holding her breath so long that she soon forgot the taste of air, Emily watched as Hotch's silhouette got larger, as he closed in on her. His mouth on her was all she wanted at this very moment, but she still took the time to interact with him, sliding her hand up his back and fingering the short, coarse hair at the nape of his neck. For now, she was conscious of the fact that this was a very substantial step in their relationship—or whatever one could label it, as it had been so long since it had really just been a friendship. She was fully cognizant of her surroundings, of the possibility that this kiss that was about to happen might amount to something more. She had absolutely no doubt that Hotch wanted—and maybe even needed—more than that, which ultimately led her to decide, right then and there, that she would follow him wherever he went. He wasn't smothering her—he wasn't even kissing her yet—but she could see where it was going, or where she hoped it was going.

For a split second, their eye contact before Hotch lowered his face to Emily's had him worried that she was afraid, wasn't prepared for the kiss, or anything beyond that, or any of the ramifications, for that matter. But when she maintained the gaze and didn't flinch as he inched closer, when her palm flattened against his neck and she slid it up the back of his head, flicking his hair out of place, he convinced himself that as long as he didn't do anything too quickly, it seemed like Emily was open-minded and brave. At least that was the message his desperate body relayed to his brain, passing along a postscript that said Emily would stop him if at any point she felt uneasy. No need to worry.

Before they shared their third kiss—though the actual number was completely lost on him—Hotch told himself that this moment was theirs for the taking, that the tiptoeing needed to come to an end. Maybe it would only be a kiss, or maybe it would be more, but either way, things were about to change once and for all, he felt.

Hot air rushed between their lips right before they touched. Their first kiss had been electrifying, spontaneous, fun, but tainted by the fact that they'd been sloshed and the knowledge that what they'd done was wrong. Their second kiss had been planned, and though it had been mind-numbing, its results had been decided upon before Emily had even let Hotch touch her. The third kiss, of course, expanded both their palates, opening the doors to a new place where they had permission to be together. There were no answering machines to worry about, and not only were the children's futures safe, but they were probably better off if this were to happen rather than if they kept going along without defining what they had. The only obstacle that remained in their path was the elephant in the room, which, for now, judging from Emily's body language, seemed to be uncertain if it belonged there.

For a considerable span of time, one where they could have actually counted the seconds if either one of them had had the intellectual resources available, their lips merely pressed against one another's, Emily nudging Hotch down by the neck without thought as she drew in another breath through her nose.

The mattress groaned slightly as Hotch continued to adjust his position, widening his elbows' stance so his body could match with hers at places other than the mouth.

Emily was standing by her decision—the one she'd made when she was a little more lucid—to go until she could no more. Once her heart relented a little, slowing, allowing her to hear how much Hotch was enjoying himself, she slipped a hand underneath his t-shirt and smoothed it up his solid back.

Instead of asking Emily what her actions meant, Hotch interpreted them on his own, and when he knelt upright for a moment to shed his shirt and saw with his now dark-adapted eyes that Emily was pleased with this development, he gained confidence in his ability to please her without scaring or harming her. Piece by piece, most of their clothing made it to the floor.

It was unfortunate for Hotch that he wasn't looking at Emily's face once he'd disrobed, instead trying to remember with sudden absentmindedness whether he had ever bought some condoms and stuck a "you never know" one in his wallet sometime that week, or whether he'd only thought about doing it. If he had been watching her, he would have seen her eyes widen for just a second when he dropped his shorts to the floor and turned back to her, would have seen her breathing stop. He made the mistake again of not looking at her until he was over her once more, and by that time, Emily had found her breath again and had closed her eyes. She accepted his next kiss without any eagerness whatsoever, the visions of their perfect lovemaking being replaced quickly by a dread she hadn't felt on its own before. It often accompanied her flashbacks in some way, shape, or form. She wanted to give it a moment to go away, but Hotch was distracting her from that effort. "Stop," she whispered when she backed out of the kiss.

Either Hotch didn't hear, or he'd taken it as some sort of playful objection to him using too much tongue, so he didn't answer, just moved to her neck instead..

"Stop, stop, stop, stop," Emily moaned repeatedly, until Hotch finally caught on to the urgency in her voice. Her legs folded up to her chest as Hotch backed away, bewildered.

"What?" he hissed, somewhat out of breath. Truth be told, he hadn't felt vulnerable at all, really, when he'd first taken his clothes off. But now, as he sat back on his feet and Emily backed away from him like he was a poisonous spider, her eyes sealed shut, he felt like a complete fool. This wasn't to say that he wasn't scared that he'd done something to hurt her, but that was currently further back in his mind than the fact that he had repulsed her somehow and was feeling quite vulnerable himself.

Emily looked like Hotch had beaten her with a belt rather than asked her a question. "Just…we have to stop," she replied, her voice so shaky that she wasn't sure that she'd muttered a single coherent syllable.

Hotch would kick himself repeatedly for this in the future, but he brought his hands to his face, covering it completely, and heaved a deep sigh. "Perfect."

Emily didn't know if she had the right to expect anything different, but Hotch's insensitive choice of words tore her up all the same, unleashing a torrent of tears that came down her cheeks without warning. She moved even further away from him, to the other side of the bed, clutching pillows against her front as she went and searching for the edge of the sheets. She was about to open her mouth—to say what, she didn't know—when Hotch went first.

His voice was quiet and controlled. "You really need to make up your mind, Emily. Friendship or a relationship? What is it going to be, and when will you stop bouncing back and forth? I can't take this friends with benefits thing anymore. Not when the benefits are only benefits for you. I'm only human. I can only play this little game for so long."

Anger filled Emily's veins, almost paralyzed her, but she had nothing clever to say back at the moment. She only had two immediate concerns, and she needed Hotch's help for at least one. "Can you hand me my shirt, please? I need my shirt. And my shorts." She took care of the other concern simply by hiding her face behind her hands, not giving her the chance to look at him, at it, anymore. She hoped that by the time he handed over her clothes, he'd already caught on and covered himself up somehow.

Hotch came off his high rather quickly, Emily's tearful voice being rather effective in starting in his mind a looping recording of what he'd just said. He'd been drunk with frustration, and he was always a drunk who did and said what he couldn't when he was sober. He took in and let out another deep breath. "I—"

"Please, I need my clothes."

With every part of his body aching with regret that wasn't going to do him an ounce of good now, Hotch got out of bed and searched for Emily's clothes. Without looking at her—at least he understood that much, even if it was a little late—he gently tossed her shorts and tank top to her. He clearly didn't understand her other concern, however, when he sat at the edge of the bed, still naked, and stared at the wall opposite him.

"I'm sorry, but—"

"Emily, you don't need to apologize," Hotch said, frustrated still, but purely with himself and his lack of a filter. "Are you having a flashback?"

"No."

"Well, still…Is there something else you need?" he said as nicely as he possibly could.

"Yeah. Can you…get out of the room for a minute? Maybe just go in the bathroom so I can get dressed?"

Hotch nodded without feeling and left, snatching up his shorts on the way. Emily averted her eyes until she heard the bathroom door shut softly behind him.

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**


	79. Moratorium

Emily waited until she was dressed and under the blankets before turning on a lamp and calling nervously to Hotch that he was all clear to come back. She heard some running water but no answer from him. She drew in a deep, ragged breath and held it in for longer than she naturally would have, seeing if she could somehow calm her body and in turn quell her tears. She reviewed recent events in her mind, starting with how the sight of something Hotch couldn't help had frozen her completely with fear. She tried to figure out where her words or behavior had warranted such a hurtful verbal reaction from Hotch, but she supposed his frustration was more due to the last several months than it was to tonight. Suddenly she did feel for him, despite the fact that she wanted to wallow in her own self-pity instead. He'd been more than patient all along, and he hadn't even been the assertive one this time—Emily had led practically the entire sequence of events, pushing her own boundaries. He hadn't pushed a single one. It wasn't his responsibility to slow down and check with her every step of the way. She was an adult and should have stopped to do such thinking on her own. All the same, his words still stung like salt in a wound. At least, she figured, her anxiety was waning as he wasn't in the room. She hoped that when he did re-emerge, the dread wouldn't as well.

Hotch splashed cold water on his face for a good minute straight before patting it dry. Despite the fact that his erection had disappeared almost instantaneously, he wasn't ready to face her again. Not yet. He shut the toilet lid and sat down upon it, dragging his hands up and down his face, his stubble scraping his palms. He tried to let his residual anger boil off before assessing the situation, but after a minute of waiting, he realized his anger was going to stay put until he reasoned it away.

Everything he'd said in his fifteen-second rant had been, unfortunately, true. He knew he couldn't honestly say to her that he hadn't meant what he'd said. The back-and-forth with her _was_ exhausting. His choice of words had been rather poor, he knew, because he had implied that Emily had some sort of control over how she'd reacted just now, when he knew full well that she didn't, as much as he liked to think she was in control of her disorder. Of course, she could have communicated with him somehow before the act—talked to him about her feelings, her plans, her urges. But would that have really altered the outcome? Would he have been able to control his own urges? Tonight had demonstrated that he lacked that self-discipline. Even though he still pinned partial responsibility on Emily for going so fast, he knew as well that he'd brushed the angel off his shoulder a couple of times, had ignored an instinct, however fleeting, to slow things down, to accept the fact that considering what Emily had been through, sex was not the appropriate end to the evening. Not yet.

No longer near furious, but still irritated, Hotch figured that was the best he was going to do tonight. He realized as he walked out of the bathroom that it was probably good not to bottle up his aggravation right away anyway. An honest conversation needed to occur, and Emily would never get his feelings out of him if he convinced himself that he'd been completely in the wrong.

"Hi," she said meekly when he stepped into the lamplight.

"Hey." He took a seat at the foot of his own bed, facing Emily's, but not facing her directly. After an uncomfortable awareness of Emily's situation, he realized it would probably be best for her if he put his shirt back on, so he did. He would have put his jeans back ton, too, if they were nearby.

"I never meant to lead you on. I'm sorry," Emily said first, swiping her hands across her cheeks in a futile effort to dry them. "That was never my intention. I honestly thought I was ready. It was stupid of me."

"I have to be honest here," Hotch started, knowing he should begin with an apology as well before he moved on, but needing to get this off his chest before he found it too harsh for sharing. "This isn't just about tonight. It's about the last God knows how many months. You shoot me down. say you only want to be friends. Fine. We get used to that. Then things take a different direction. Do you stop it and say no? No, you let it continue. You let it build up. You _constantly_ make moves on me." Hotch saw Emily's scowl. "I'm not saying I don't make moves back. I do, especially lately, thinking you were comfortable with it. But you stopped resisting and you asked me to climb into bed with you. I'm not saying this justifies me saying exactly what I said, but you have to see things from my side, Emily. You know me better than anyone ever has and probably better than anyone ever will, and when you kept letting things progress, I assumed it was because you were sure that that was where you wanted to go. Because I thought you _knew_ that I'd hate being strung along like this. I realize that we both have dominant personalities and that we need to take turns backing down and being submissive to the other, but I feel like I haven't had a say in this—in us—in a long time. I've tried to be understanding. I've tried to help. But tonight just…" Hotch ended his rant with a shrug. "I needed to get that off my chest before I chickened out. As inconvenient of a truth as it is, I need you to hear it. You need to understand how all of this has made me feel."

Emily's face was on fire and she was sure it wore a shade to match. "Can I say something?"

"Of course. This is an open dialogue, I'm assuming. We've kind of come to a head, haven't we? We need to get everything out in the open."

"I agree. So let me say this. I understand that the past few months have been confusing and frustrating for you. And I understand that I should have just…_told_ you that I was thinking of taking the next step with you instead of just throwing myself at you. But when you see the need to explain your feelings to me to justify what you said, it makes me feel like you think I was in control of my reaction. And I wasn't. It was my full intention to sleep with you. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I wanted it. I really did. Not _only_ because I actually had the desire again myself, but because I really wanted to give you everything you wanted, and I could tell you were ready and waiting. But I can't help the fact that I froze. I guess now I know that me thinking I'm ready doesn't mean I'm actually ready. I obviously still don't understand myself and my past as well as I thought. But what you just said makes me wonder if you wish I wouldn't have stopped you. I don't know what else to think. I get that you're frustrated, but I am too. I'm just as upset as you are that this didn't go the way I thought it would. But would you rather be having sex with me right now while I'd be having a flashback? Is that what you want?"

"I didn't mean it that way. You know I didn't."

"Then you're clearly not making the connection, Aaron. I'm sorry I froze. I really wish I hadn't. Like I said, I wanted this. It was my fault that I created such high expectations from the get-go, but I can't just turn my anxiety off like you want me to. I need you to understand that."

"I do."

"Then stop insinuating that I'm some selfish bitch who led you along and used you."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I. For so many things. _Please_ don't _ever_ think that I'd manipulate you like that. I obviously need to take a step back and reevaluate things. Clearly I'm not ready for sex and we need to take things more slowly—"

"Emily, I really don't think we should be talking about future plans right now. Neither one of us are in the right state of mind."

"Oh. Yeah, I guess you have a point." Emily wrung her hands in her lap and hoped Hotch didn't mean what she thought he meant. Certainly things had gotten off to a rocky start, but had it been so rocky that Hotch couldn't consider a relationship with her now? Had she bruised his ego that much? The more she thought about it, the sillier she felt for assuming she had a second chance.

"We should get some sleep. Would you feel more comfortable if I got another room?" Hotch asked.

"Aaron, it's not you I'm afraid of. You understand that, right? You're not the one who made me panic. It was seeing you naked, which obviously wasn't your fault. I didn't realize how much a penis would bother me. I really didn't. It sounds so stupid now."

"So that was the trigger?"

Emily nodded vaguely, even though she should have been pleased that Hotch had made the connection.

Hotch slouched over and scratched the back of his head for a while, unable to put into words how much weight this revelation chained onto his soul. "Can you tell me something?"

"Maybe."

"What exactly did they do to you? You said they didn't rape you—"

"Don't."

"Emily, I need to know. How do you expect me to be able to have any sort of real relationship with you if I have no idea what's going to serve as a trigger. I feel completely blinded right now."

"If I thought that knowing the details would make this easier for you, I'd tell you. But I know you. And I know and appreciate how much you care about me. I've lived for three years with these memories and they still have an effect on me. I know how fiercely you protect the people you care about, and how much you can't stand to see them hurt. I don't think you'd be any better equipped to handle it than I've been. So no. I'm sorry."

"I can handle it."

"What do you mean by 'handle it'? That you can listen to the entire story without crying? I doubt it, but you know what, maybe you can. But would you ever be able to look at me the same way again? I don't think so."

"If you told me, I think it would make this relationship thing a little bit easier," Hotch argued.

"If that's what it takes for you to be ready for a relationship with me, then it's not worth it," Emily said frankly. "I won't put you through that."

"Again, you decide what's best," Hotch said with a sigh. He got up and paced the room until he found where he'd left his jeans. He saw them folded up on top of a suitcase. "I'll go see if they have another room. Do you want me to take the baby for the night?"

Emily hated how easily it seemed they could hurt each other. She supposed that was some measure of her love for him, though. She spoke before she started to cry again. "I'm fine with her. We should plan to be back at Sean's around eight or nine. We can't leave him with the boys all day."

"Sounds good," Hotch said, stepping into his jeans. He also pulled on the polo shirt he'd worn that day and grabbed his wallet. He took a fresh change of clothes and his toiletries with him as well. "See you in the morning."

Emily didn't answer, just watched with a shattering heart as Hotch walked out. At least once the door was shut she could cry freely, which she did through a headache. Just when she was thinking that the only thing she had to be thankful for was the fact that she wasn't having a flashback, the baby woke up and started to scream. She brought her over to the bed, knowing that all the baby needed was a little reassurance, to know she was loved. Emily noted she would probably be more comfortable in something other than a car seat, too.

"I'm so glad I have you with me, even if you're cranky," Emily mumbled through the fussing. "But seriously, what's up with that? One of us has to be a big girl and I don't feel much like it." She went to the bathroom for something with which to blow her nose, then came back to bed and switched on the television. Instead of giving in and crying herself to sleep, she analyzed, like she always did. She analyzed Hotch's behavior, coming to the conclusion that he was sincerely sorry for the words he'd used in the heat of the moment, but really had nothing else to be sorry for. He'd operated under the understanding for quite some time now that her illness limited her, even if he acted like she owned herself better than that. His understanding of her condition hadn't disappeared tonight—it had merely been forgotten in a moment of weakness and exasperation. She had to convince herself of that if she wanted to forgive him, which she so desperately did.

She also reviewed her own thought processes. Thinking that she could go from surface-level innocent physical gestures to sex in one bound had been a giant and costly error in judgment on her part. It had resulted in Hotch being very rightfully embarrassed. It had left him feeling used and toyed with, neither one of which were true, but that fact didn't invalidate his feelings a bit.

To her surprise but certainly not dismay, she felt tired enough to sleep before long. Charlotte was already long gone, so she put her back in her seat and turned in. Emily followed her into slumber within minutes.

—

"Morning," Emily said with forced pleasantness when she opened the hotel room door for Hotch the next morning. She'd woken up a handful of times over the course of the night for no explicable reason other than to think more, which was something she didn't feel she needed.

"Hey. Ready to go?" Hotch asked rhetorically, eying their suitcases. They would be heading back home sometime that evening, their departure time to be determined by the children's moods, most likely.

"Yeah." She waited in the car while Hotch checked out of both rooms, then spent a silent fifteen minutes with him on the way back to Sean's. She'd decided when she'd gotten ready for the day that any further conversation about the night before, and about what the events implied for their future, could wait. It would do neither of them any good to spend time arguing before spending an entire day with the kids and Hotch's brother. This was a private battle.

They were received eagerly by the boys, who had reportedly had a good time, as well as pancakes, but had gone long enough without Hotch and Emily. Sean cornered Hotch in the kitchen at the first opportunity while Emily listened to Jack's report on another movie they'd watched before going to bed.

"Well?" Sean asked.

"Well what?" Hotch asked, helping himself to a cup of very, very black coffee.

"Did you take advantage—"

"Sean," Hotch muttered, "I need you to stop meddling. I appreciate the concern, but our business is our business."

Sean had always been the more easily provoked of the two of them, but hadn't really had a reason to be annoyed with his brother since their rekindled relationship. Now, however, Hotch realized he'd perhaps been a little too surly with his brother.

"Got it," Sean said, raising his eyebrows and his hands. "You've got it, Aaron. So," he said loudly, going back into the living room, "what's this big news you guys were going to share yesterday?" He handed Emily a cup of coffee he hadn't offered and for which she hadn't asked. She thanked him quietly and looked up at Hotch who stood against the wall looking guilty. Emily surmised from his countenance and Sean's overzealousness that a less than friendly conversation had gone on in the kitchen.

When Hotch didn't pipe in, instead brooding, Emily spoke with a smile she wished she didn't have to force, for their news truly was good to say the least. "We legally adopted Henry and Charlotte last week. Everything's official."

"Seriously? That's great. Congrats," Sean said with a big smile to Emily, who as far as he was concerned had done him no wrong and deserved every ounce of happiness he could muster up. The grin he offered Hotch, though, paled in comparison.

"Thanks," Emily replied. She wanted to glare at Hotch, wanted to communicate with him that if he let their problems bleed into their vacation, and, worse, take his frustration out on his brother and the children, that he'd have hell to pay with her, but she couldn't catch his eye undetected. "What's on the agenda for today?" she asked Sean a little more brightly. "How close is Richmond? I'm sure there's plenty to do there. Bigger city. No offense."

"It's a drive, but if we made a day out of it, we would be a little closer to home. Shorter drive tonight if you don't mind driving too, Sean," Hotch chimed in. His brother nodded his approval.

With that decided, all six of them piled into two vehicles, Jack wanting to accompany his uncle. Emily had half a mind to tell Hotch to ride with Sean as well, as she loathed the idea of a two hour car ride together with Henry in the car, meaning they'd have to play nice. However, Hotch was obviously at odds with his brother, too, so she kept her suggestion to herself.

They spent most of the day at Maymont, letting Jack lead the way through wildlife exhibits and to the petting zoo, where Hotch and Emily distracted themselves from their dour moods by watching Sean and the boys feed every animal that would approach them.

After Sean's hospitality and willingness to drive so far to make Hotch and Emily's drive home shorter, Emily felt obligated to make the day as long as possible and make it worth Sean's while. Hotch suggested privately that they go home after dinner, but Emily insisted—selfishly, for she just dreaded more time in the car with Hotch given the mood in which he'd started the day—that they find something else to do. She reasoned with him that Henry, who'd skipped a nap, would be up all night if he got in the car too early and inevitably fell asleep. Hotch let her have her way, but not without a look. They spent two hours or so getting ice cream and window shopping until the boys both grew ornery and the sun got serious about setting.

"Thank you so much," Emily said to Sean with sincerity, but also regret, knowing Sean had sensed the tension between her and Hotch and would be ending his time spent with them on an awkward note yet again. She hugged him tightly, as if that could make up for it.

"No, thank you guys for coming out. It's my turn next time. Let's plan on me coming out your way for Jack's birthday."

"That sounds nice," Emily said. "Doesn't it, Jack?"

"Mommy's birthday is right before mine!"

"By a few weeks, Jack," Emily corrected.

"Close enough," Sean said. "Aaron's is in there, too, not that he'll let us celebrate," he added, glancing at Hotch in some sort of odd, brotherly peacemaking effort. "Sounds like fun."

—

"I really like your brother," Emily said, breaking the awkward silence that permeated the air once all three children were out cold. Now it was nothing but them and a dark highway, with the occasional passing car. "He's really good for the kids. And for you, even if you didn't have the best day."

"Yeah." Hotch fought off a yawn, a product of an almost sleepless night. A sleepless night full of winding roads of thought that all ended in either regret or confusion, never any happy destinations. It pained him to know that he couldn't take back what he'd said to Emily about the benefits only being benefits for her—that was an outright lie and he knew it. He'd known it when he'd said it, but he'd found himself in an miserable place where his only relief had been to hurt her right back. He'd been more than effective in that regard. Admitting he was sorry for that specific misstep, though—admitting to Emily that the hugs, the touches, the nights spent cuddling on the couch had been immensely enjoyable for him, too—might imply that he wasn't disappointed in the abrupt end to their rendezvous the night before. He knew he couldn't let her believe that. He wasn't sure whether the chaste contact would be enough for him in the long run, even though he'd insisted in the past that it would be.

Maybe if Emily hadn't decided on last night, for all intents and purposes alone in a hotel room, an environment rife with sexual context, they would have started out on a more responsible foot. Perhaps they would have talked first, set boundaries, attempt to eliminate expectations. Maybe if things had happened that way instead, Hotch could more easily see himself enjoying time with her that was intimate but not physically so. But right now, knowing how close they'd been, how right it had felt up until the moment when it had been decided that it was entirely wrong, Hotch couldn't help but think that he'd been naïve to think that he could suppress his carnal urges. Sure, he'd spent the past four years now with just his hand, but he wasn't certain that he could continue to do so if presented with a possible opportunity for physical intimacy with Emily.

He now fully blamed this on Emily, as wrong as he knew it was to do so. The old adage that it takes two to tango was annoyingly appropriate in this situation, but Hotch had been waiting for quite a while now for their relationship to progress—or for their friendship to turn into something more, however one wanted to look at it—and he considered himself extra susceptible to temptation. Emily had to have known that. She had to have realized that he wouldn't be the one to stop them from taking every important step in one night. As slimy as he felt for exempting himself from the blame, it was so easy and irresistible.

He needed an easy escape from the thought that he'd managed to repulse Emily into a state of anxiety. It brought to him unspeakable images of what her captors could have possibly done to her to make her so sick at the sight of something that was formerly, years ago, something normal to her, something that was a part of a loving relationship. To know now that her assailants had robbed her of the ability to see or feel his manhood without wanting to run for the hills just made him wonder what they'd done to her using theirs. It made him wish he'd been the one to make at least one of the kill shots when they'd both committed suicide by cop once found. No, it made him want to bring them back to life so he could give them a much slower, more painful death than the one they'd been granted, and by his hands alone.

"What are you thinking about?" Emily asked once she realized the Sean conversation was going nowhere.

Hotch sipped on a to-go cup of coffee before answering. "A lot of things."

"Anything you want to talk about?" she ventured, gazing out the passenger window.

"Anything I _want_ to talk about? Not particularly."

"Come on, please don't be like this. You know we need to talk. Preferably before we both go to bed tonight. I don't know about you, but I slept like shit."

"Same here."

"Then let it out. Tell me what's on your mind. Or do you want me to go first?"

"Go for it."

Hotch's moodiness wasn't entirely unexpected, but it was unwelcome all the same. "All right…I need to apologize again for basically setting us up for failure last night. I should have known that even if I thought I was ready, that was too much for even two normal people. So there was no way it would have been right for us. And I know that how I stopped things was embarrassing for you, and I'm really sorry for that. I'm sorry for everything. I don't want this to be the end of us, though." She'd added that last bit without thinking, and although part of her wanted to take it back, a bigger part of her knew that she needed to be forthright with him from now on. She couldn't think their advances in secret anymore. He had to be a part of her decisions, a part of her thought process, when it came to them. Trying to keep him in the dark and reduce the risk of him forming expectations had blown up in her face. It was a mistake she couldn't repeat. So her hope that there was still a future for them was something he needed to know.

But he didn't address that concern. "I'm sorry for being a jackass. I know you couldn't help how you reacted. It doesn't matter how we got there, but I should have been more understanding about your anxiety. I _did_ understand, but I didn't act like it."

"You reacted. I understand. I think any guy would be pissed to get that far only to be told to stop. I don't fault you for that."

"Thank you." Hotch felt his eyes going dry and tired, even though they weren't even halfway home.

"You kind of ignored me just now when I said this, and if it's because you're not sure, then I can accept that, but I need to know if this somehow blew our chances. I'm accepting the fact that I need to be more open with you, and make sure I'm actually better before I try anything like that again, but are you willing to give us another chance if it means starting out more slowly?" Her heart raced faster than it had been the night before when he'd pressed his naked body against hers. She felt like her entire life's course depended on his answer to this question. She swallowed.

"Honestly, Emily, I don't know."

At the news that her carelessness might have caused the end of something that had never had a real chance at beginning the right way, Emily's eyes welled up with tears she'd hoped she'd be able to save for when she was alone. "I don't know if this is part of your reasoning for not being sure, that maybe you've changed your mind about it, but do you remember when you said to me this spring that you'd be happy with me even if we never made love? Did you mean that?"

Hotch silently cursed her good memory. "I did."

"Past tense. Does that mean you don't mean it anymore?" Emily's voice grew squeaky from her attempts at holding her tears back. She eyed Hotch's hand, which gripped the lid of his coffee cup. Her own hand twitched, telling her to take his, that it would ease her, even make this all go away. He seemed to have read her mind and reached out for her hand. He interlaced fingers with her and stroked the back of her hand soothingly with his thumb, as if to make up for the fact that he had little to say that could have the same effect.

"I really don't know. I wish I had a better answer. But I think we should take some time to step away from each other in that way and think about things a little more objectively. I don't know anymore whether I'd be genuinely happy without the sexual component. I just don't know. But maybe if we take some time apart, I don't know…maybe things will be a little clearer. You know?"

Emily's tears left scorching tracks down her cheeks, then fell unhindered into her lap. His uncertainty was more jarring than she ever could have prepared herself for. "Okay."

Hotch gave Emily's hand a final squeeze before he took it away. He wanted to tell her not to cry, but he didn't want to be a hypocrite.

**A/N: Please leave a review!  
**


	80. Limbo Is Hell

**September 2011 (Present Day)**

It had only been a month since the family's visit downstate, but to both Hotch and Emily, it could have easily been years. The first few days after they had arrived home, they spoke to one another only in the interests of maintaining a functioning household, being perfectly civil with one another but nothing more. This wasn't out of anger, but merely out of a lack of anything to say that hadn't already been gone over—apologies, pleas, explanations. It didn't take long for them both to loathe the silence, so they both started to make an effort to make friendly conversation again. Doing something they had once done with such ease now felt gut-wrenchingly unnatural, but both hoped that it would get easier as time went on.

Jack started another year of school, and it was family milestones such as this that allowed Hotch and Emily to remain connected. As for communicating to one another their feelings, as both had agreed was necessary, they both failed in that endeavor. Emily wanted to tell Hotch that the way he purposely took the long way around her in the kitchen to avoid brushing against her felt like a bullet to the heart. Hotch wanted to tell Emily that he would gladly hold her once again if he knew for certain that it would be enough for him. They fell back into their old routine of assuming their thoughts were known without need for direct communication, which tested their abilities to read one another more than ever. When Hotch avoided her touch, or chances to touch her, Emily figured the best case scenario was that he was avoiding temptation, not that he was repulsed by her, fed up with her. However, the latter possibility was the one she often deemed most likely. Hotch assumed that Emily knew he wanted nothing more than to walk up behind her at the kitchen counter and wrap his arms around her waist as, a month ago, he might have done, or to pick up her legs on the couch and lay them across his lap, or to take hold of her hand again in the car on the way home from church when the children weren't looking. He didn't know how Emily could possibly fail to know these things, given everything they'd been through. He thought it impossible for her to believe he wanted anything but a future with her, even if he'd admitted that he wasn't sure it was feasible.

It was under these misunderstandings that life went on. If the children sensed it, they asked nothing about it. Unfortunately, there were adults in their lives that found it easy to read into the situation. Rossi was, after all, a profiler, and found it sickeningly easy to determine that things weren't okay at home when he golfed with Hotch most Saturdays. He also knew better than to prod by now, but he made sure to let Hotch know in little ways that he was there to talk if Hotch needed him.

Garcia, Emily's confidant as always, had cried at Emily's recollection of the disastrous weekend, which prompted Emily to cease conversations about it, not wanting to drag Garcia into the mess she'd created, not wanting every conversation between them to be depressing and about herself. She instead switched to sharing cute stories about the children, or marveling at how much Charlotte had grown in her eight months of existence.

Jessica had yet to be around both Hotch and Emily at the same time until they closed in on the one-month marker. She accepted Hotch's invitation to dinner with the family, which he'd extended once he figured that he and Emily were friendly enough again to avoid questions.

Unbeknownst to Hotch and Emily, Jessica watched their interactions keenly, noting every time they made eye contact and broke it right away, every time one of them responded warmly to one of the children, then cooled down slightly when talking to the other parent. Jessica resisted the urge to help Emily with the dishes and pry in the life of someone who might just be considered a friend by now, instead listening to Jack tell her about his first few weeks back at school, even though she'd heard most of it the previous Friday night. She'd offered to take all three children again that Friday just to give Hotch and Emily a break, but they had given her some excuse about Henry and Charlotte being overtired and needing to stay home. She'd wondered even then if something was off between them.

Emily popped back into the dining room a while later and looked at Hotch. "Garcia just called and wants to grab a drink."

"Have fun," Hotch said. "Don't stay out too late," he added with a smirk.

"It was nice to see you, Jessica." Emily kissed the children goodbye and found Garcia at one of their favorite haunts twenty minutes later. She had a cocktail waiting for her.

"Hey," she said pleasantly to Garcia as she took a stool next to her.

"Hello, my love. How are things going?"

Emily shrugged and gave a non-committal smile. Garcia was the only person around whom she didn't have to force smiles, which was exactly why she'd jumped at the chance of a couple of drinks on a weeknight, leaving Hotch to put the kids to bed on his own, most likely. "Fine, I guess. How about you? Any fascinating cases?"

"Oh, they're all fascinating. Fascinatingly disgusting. How are my little monkeys?"

"Good…how's Kevin?"

"Good…how's Hotch?"

Emily rolled her eyes and took as long of a drink as she could. "God, that's strong," she said, wincing.

"Em…"

"He's fine. What can I say? I fucked up and it's going to take a while to figure things out." She shrugged as she mixed her drink with her straw.

"I wish you wouldn't get so down about it. I'm sure he'll come back around."

"You don't know that. I really messed with him. Inadvertently, but still. You know Hotch. He would have never taken that much shit from anyone else. He's hurt. Even if he says he understands why I couldn't go through with it, he's still bent out of shape that we had all that buildup and it led to nothing, and I can't really blame him. He's mad, even if it's not anger that's directed toward me anymore."

"Yeah, but doesn't it mean _something_ that he didn't turn you down outright? When you asked him if you guys still had a chance, he didn't say no."

"Probably only because I was a mess, Garcia. He'd already hurt me once that weekend and had the decency not to do it again. I wouldn't be surprised if he meant no and he's just waiting for the opportunity to sit me down and—"

"But he held your hand…"

"Can we please talk about something else? Anything else? I think about him enough as it is already."

"Em, you're really losing sight of things here. You guys are meant to be, just have some hope."

"Garcia, enough!" Emily practically cried out, setting down her drink so hard that some of it splashed over the rim of the glass. "I _don't want to talk about it._ How is that _so_ hard to understand? And enough with all this crap about hope. Don't you think you've done enough damage already?"

Garcia's coral lips parted in dejection. She closed them when they started to quiver.

Emily closed her eyes and took a deep breath, knowing she'd hurt the one person in the world who never would have treated her that way. "I'm sorry. That was bitchy. I'm really sorry," she mumbled, biting her bottom lip. "I'm just in a shitty mood. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it. Not a word."

Garcia signaled to the bartender that she was ready to cash out. "I have to go. I, uh, told Derek I'd get some things done at the office that I kind of slacked off on."

"Pen," Emily moaned quietly, reaching out for her hand, but her friend moved just fast enough so as to keep it out of reach.

"Good luck with everything, Emily. I have faith that things will work themselves out," Garcia said, tears already framing her carefully made-up eyes. "I'll talk to you soon, I'm sure."

"Please don't go," Emily said, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks as she felt herself start to cry for the first time in a couple of weeks. She'd gotten to a point with Hotch where she at least didn't cry herself to sleep anymore. She'd never pictured herself crying over Garcia, at least not for this reason.

"I have to. Goodnight," Garcia said with a slow nod. Emily watched through watery eyes as Garcia cashed out with the bartender and left. She dialed Hotch, the first person she thought of, without thinking, without realizing how she would sound, without even knowing what she would say.

"Hey. Everything okay?" he answered quietly, sounding like he'd stepped into another room. Emily also heard the baby babbling close to the phone. Emily could picture Charlotte reaching out for the phone and Hotch stretching his neck away.

"Just…calling to check in."

"No, you're not. You left half an hour ago. What's wrong?"

"Is Jessica still there?"

"Yeah, but I can ask—"

"No, it's okay. Don't ask her to leave. I'm not refusing help from you, but I think there's someone else I should talk to as well. I'll see you when I get home."

"Can you at least tell me what happened?"

Emily never really divulged to Hotch how much she shared with Garcia. She figured he knew Garcia had gotten a recitation of the events that had transpired on their trip, but she'd never told him that outright. To say now how she'd upset Garcia would definitely let him in on the fact that their matters from that weekend weren't private. Emily tried to gauge Hotch, read in his voice whether he really wanted to know what was wrong. Deciding he sounded genuine, she answered him. "She was pushing on the subject of…you and me. I didn't want to talk about it, and I was a complete bitch to her and she left."

"Oh." Hotch was no doubt processing the information he'd just heard about the subject of Emily and Garcia's conversation. Emily hoped it was only somewhat surprising news, and definitely not upsetting. She was only a woman, after all. Even if she was typically a well-guarded one, Garcia was not someone from whom a woman could, or even wanted to, keep secrets. She was the world's finest confidant. "I'm sorry. I'm sure she understands you're just frustrated. It's Garcia. She'll be around whenever you need her."

Emily nodded even though it would mean nothing to Hotch. "I know, but I don't even know how I can begin to apologize to her."

"I'm sure you'll work things out. Call her up tomorrow. Who else were you going to talk to tonight?"

"You might not believe me."

A smile peeked out through Hotch's voice, which warmed Emily from the inside out. "Try me."

"My mother. And in person. It's time."

"I…might not believe you," he teased.

"Is it wrong that I'm finally going to her because I'm in trouble?"

"Emily, all I know is that you've been calling her for ages and she keeps brushing you off. If this is that final push you need to sit down with her, then I think you should go for it. And I know that—" Hotch paused for a moment and Emily heard his footsteps on the stairs as he ascended them. "I know that things haven't been the best between us," he said quietly, "but you can tell me anything that's on your mind. In fact, I want you to. Just because we're not sure about some things doesn't mean we can't still talk. Yeah, we have a few other people in our lives who will gladly listen to us ramble, but if it's about us, then we should talk more to each other, maybe. And even if it's not about us—if it's about someone else like Garcia—we're still friends. Nothing from what happened last month changes that."

It must have been the urgency of the situation conveyed by the fact that Emily finally wanted to make a better effort to speak to her mother that had Hotch worried enough to suggest a real conversation. Emily hadn't intended for her words to have that effect, but it had been so long since she'd had a heart-to-heart with Hotch that the idea sounded irresistible, even if it would end in more tears and a lonely bed. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. You should get back to Jessica, though. She's probably wondering why you're upstairs."

"How did you know—never mind," Hotch said. "I'll see you when you get home. Good luck with your mother." Once he had hung up with Emily, he went back into the dining room, where Jessica watched Jack put away the last of his homework and Henry helped himself to some crayons and scrap paper.

"Everything okay?" Jessica asked, sounding genuinely concerned.

"Everything's fine."

"Daddy, can we play outside now?" Jack asked.

"Is your homework done?"

Jack nodded. "I showed it to Auntie Jessie."

Hotch glanced outside at the sun, which had already begin its descent. "For a little while." He and Jessica followed the boys to the living room, where they went through the sliding door. "Want some coffee?" Hotch offered when he saw that Jessica intended to stay a while. She'd sat upon the couch and held her arms out for the baby. Hotch tried not to raise an eyebrow as he handed her over. Although Jessica had sat for all three children before, the idea of her being fond of Henry and Charlotte was still a foreign concept to him. "Coffee?" he repeated.

"Oh, no, I'm good." She smiled at Charlotte, who no longer saw her as a stranger and warmed up to her instantly.

"How've you been?" Hotch asked, peeking out the door to see what the boys were up to before sitting on the edge of the recliner.

"Good. How about you?"

"Good."

"Really?"

Jessica's immediate skepticism caught Hotch off guard. "What do you mean?"

"What's going on with you and Emily? Things seem a little strained compared to the last time I was here."

Hotch of course knew that Garcia knew quite a few details of his and Emily's relationship, or lack thereof. So Emily had her set of ears and a shoulder to cry on. Rossi had offered to be his sounding board, but Hotch had not felt like taking him up on that offer lately. Even though Rossi knew Emily far better than Jessica did, somehow he felt like talking more now than he had on the Saturday golf outings since the trip. "You're a good profiler," he said with a soft chuckle.

She offered him a heartfelt, sad smile. "Talk to me. Did you guys have a fight or something?"

Hotch had to take a moment before answering, and decided it was best to keep doing that in the interest of not talking himself into a corner where Emily's issues would risk being compromised. There were some things he still wouldn't talk about with anyone but Emily. "You could say that, I guess. We're not angry with each other anymore, though. It's…complicated."

"Can I be nosy?"

"You aren't already?" Hotch said with a grin.

"I guess I am. And if you don't want to answer, that's fine. I know I haven't been the fairest person when it comes to this. But were you guys…together or something?"

Hotch took his moment to think again before answering. "When I said it was complicated, I really meant it. I can't even give a yes or no answer to that question."

"Okay, well, whatever happened between you two, I take it you had some sort of falling out, and you still haven't talked about it."

"We've talked."

"When?"

"On our way back from Sean's."

"Wait, wasn't that a month ago? You haven't talked in a month?"

Hotch frowned in sudden realization. "Where exactly do you stand on this?"

"I don't know, Aaron. But it's only a matter of time before Jack catches on. He's smarter than you give him credit for."

"Tell me about it," Hotch said wryly.

"I won't butt in any further on details, but this is why relationships are sticky. Things don't go the way you plan, and then you're just tense around each other. You know, whatever you two end up doing, I think—and I know you're not asking for my advice, but Jack's my nephew and you're family, too, no matter what, so I'm going to give it—that you guys need to have a serious conversation."

"It's already on the agenda."

—

Emily sat in her car in her mother's driveway for a good ten minutes before finally getting out and striding up to the front door. One of the house staff answered.

"Miss Prentiss!" the jovial old maid answered, welcoming Emily in with one arm. Marie had been practically part of the family since Emily was a child, working for her mother whenever she was stationed in D.C. or didn't have an assignment and settled there for a time.

"Hi, Marie," Emily said, the familiar face cheering her up instantly. She hugged her. "Is my mother around?"

"She's in her study. Surprised?" Marie added furtively.

"Not a bit," Emily replied with a broad smile.

"Would you like me to tell her you're here?"

"And give her warning? Come on, Marie, you know me." Emily grinned and closed in for another hug and a kiss on the cheek. "It's good to see you."

"Likewise, sweetheart. I'll bring you two some coffee."

"Thanks." Emily's short heels clicked and clacked on the tile floor that led to her mother's study. Even when her mother had no assignment, she always found ways to keep at work late into the night. Emily licked her lips before knocking softly on the door frame. Her mother's desk was out of Emily's view.

"Come in."

Emily stepped into the study and looked anxiously at her mother, who took off her reading glasses.

"Emily."

**A/N: Please leave a review! Thanks for reading. :)  
**


	81. Coffee, Cookies, and Grandchildren

"Where did Mommy go?" Jack asked as he stuck a couple of foam letter blocks to the wall. He and Henry were getting a bath, by Hotch on his off night, since Emily still hadn't returned.

"She went to see _her_ Mommy. Here." Hotch squirted some shampoo on top of Jack's head and let him wash his own hair. Then he worked on Henry's.

"Is Mommy's mommy my grandma?" Jack asked.

"Well, that's kind of complicated. Let's just refer to her as Mommy's mommy for now, okay?"

"Is Mommy at her mommy's because she's sad?" Jack said as he lathered up his hair.

Hotch froze and his eyes went wide. "What makes you think she's sad?"

Jack shrugged, then held onto the edge of the tub as he leaned his hair back into the water to rinse it. "You don't hug now."

Hotch made a mental note to tell Jessica she was right. "Oh, we do hug. You just…haven't noticed. Mommy's not sad, buddy. Don't worry, okay?"

"Are _you_ sad?"

Hotch forced a chuckle to be more convincing. "Nobody's sad, Jack. All right?"

"Okay. Can we have ice cream before bed?"

"Absolutely not."

—

"Hi," Emily said in something just above a whisper. Her lips thinned into a straight line, waiting for her to gauge her reception. Her mother smiled brightly, albeit a little falsely as the diplomat in her had been trained to do. Emily had learned at a young age the differences between her mother's smiles, and this was some sort of strange hybrid. Emily guessed her mother was genuinely happy to see her face, but not so happy at her having dropped by unannounced. Not after months of avoiding her daughter's attempts at making amends.

"Come, sit," Elizabeth said, getting up from her desk and pointing to two visitors' chairs in front of her desk.

"I was actually hoping we could talk. For a while, maybe," Emily said waveringly. "Do you think we could go somewhere that's…not your office?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Seeming eager enough to please, Emily's mother led her—though she needed no leading—to a sitting room across the hall. It was chock full of the worldly decorations and trinkets that also decorated the study.

"How's Dad?" Emily asked as she took an overstuffed chair that she remembered her mother having bought in the Ukraine eons ago. It had been when Emily was only nine or ten, and she'd said she liked the pattern. Much of their furniture did not travel from place to place with them, but this chair had.

"He's fine. Did you want to talk to him, too?" Elizabeth took a seat across from her daughter and crossed her legs, cupping the top one with both hands.

"No, not tonight, or at least not right now. This is something that you and I need to talk about."

"It's about how I've been avoiding you," Elizabeth said distantly, too ashamed to look her daughter in the eye.

"I'm not here to call you out on that. Nothing of that nature—"

"I did get your flowers, Em. On Mother's Day. And I'm sorry I never called or dropped by to thank you, or sent you any, but I was afraid to admit I was wrong."

Emily wasn't sure what to think of her mother's sudden confession. She had spent months unable to get her mother's attention via telephone (though she would be the first to admit that her efforts were bimonthly at best, and rarely wholehearted), and now her mother was admitting to her wrongdoings right in front of her. On the outside, Elizabeth was still as cool and collected as ever, her words being her only self-betrayal. But Emily was certain there was a lot more brewing behind those wide eyes than her mother was letting on. Perhaps all she'd needed was to see her daughter's face—which Emily was sure was laced with just a little fear—before her walls started to crumble. Emily usually wasn't on the receiving end of any sort of apology from her mother, whose coping mechanism when it came to tension was just to spend a few days upset with the opposing party and then pretend nothing had happened. "Listen, can we just…forget about the fact that we haven't talked in something like four months? I'm not here to tell you I'm mad at you. I'm here because…" Emily stopped to shrug, then found herself picking at her fingers. "…Well, because I need to talk to you. But not about that. I'm not here to fight. Just to catch up, so to speak. To catch up on a lot."

Elizabeth's face went from soft, almost wilted, to taut. "A lot? What's happened? Is everything okay?"

"Marie's bringing in some coffee. Let's wait until she goes so we can shut the door," Emily said, having gone over this conversation a dozen times during the car ride over, then while she'd sat parked in the driveway.

"Shut the door? Em, what's going on?"

"Mom, just—" Emily wasn't sure she'd used that word on her mother, even though she almost exclusively referred to her father as "Dad." "I'll explain. I'm okay." Emily wished now that she hadn't divulged so much so soon. She was just priming her mother to take everything she said seriously, probably too much so. Marie brought in their coffee and an assortment of cookies before long and closed the door on her way out at the ambassador's request. Emily fixed her coffee to her liking and then sat back in her chair, dipping a cookie into the steaming cup.

"Tell me what's going on, Emily," Elizabeth said as calmly as she could. Emily had seldom seen her mother so rattled with fear. With anger and frustration, yes, more times than she could count. But she was rarely visibly scared, even when it had come to Emily and her wellbeing. This wasn't to say at all that she had never cared, but that wasn't the type of relationship they had shared. Typically, if her mother was shaken, she kept it rather private.

"Can I start by saying that I'm sorry I didn't include you on what's been going on from the start? Trying to hide it from you was stupid and selfish, and there's no getting around that. There are some more things I want to talk to you about, but first I needed to get that out. It's an apology I should have snuck in on the phone sometime while I had you on the line. That's why I can't really blame you for avoiding me. I hurt you more, I'm sure, by not including you in what was going on in my life."

Elizabeth sighed and stirred her coffee still. Emily watched remorsefully as half her cookie broke off into her own coffee. "Em, I understand your need to keep your life private, especially if you thought I wouldn't approve, and you were clearly right about that. But I'm hear to listen now. I want to know whatever you're willing to tell me."

Emily knew better than to ask whether her mother would promise to support her every decision, as she knew doing so would merely equate to asking her mother to keep her mouth shut. Over the last few years, she'd become far less practical than the woman she'd been, the woman who so much resembled her mother. She was fairly sure that they'd never completely see eye-to-eye on many things. However, that didn't quell the sudden urge in Emily to catch her mother up completely.

"Okay, well, I'm actually going to rewind a few years. I think my current issues will make more sense given some context that I should've given you a long time ago. I'll understand if you're upset that I didn't tell you these things sooner, but some of it is just stuff that no woman ever wants her mother to know. I still don't _want_ you to know, but I do at the same time. It's hard to explain."

Elizabeth stopped her coffee spoon in midair briefly before setting it down on her saucer. "That's quite the lead-in. But okay. I'm listening."

"Okay, here goes nothing. About a year after I started working at the BAU, Aaron's marriage started to go south. Really far south. I helped him unpack some things at his new place, befriended him, and that turned into a drink here and there after work. The night he signed his divorce papers, the next spring, we went out for drinks to get his mind off things, and we both had a few too many, and this is where we get into the territory of things no woman wants her mother to know."

"Did you sleep with him?" Emily's mother asked with unexpected calm.

"No, but things got far too cozy. Cozy enough that work was unpleasant for a while. So you weren't completely wrong in assuming there's something more going on between me and Aaron. There is and there has been for quite some time, even though to outsiders it's usually not too obvious."

"Except outsiders like your mother," Elizabeth pointed out, her eyes glinting.

Emily let out a puffy laugh. "I guess you could say that. I'm surprised you don't have anything to say about the fact that I almost slept with someone from work, let alone a superior."

"Oh, sweetheart, I have things to say. It doesn't mean I'm going to say them, though. That wouldn't be conducive to getting the last three years out of you, would it?"

Emily smirked and continued her story. Her heart pounded when she realized what was next in her timeline. "About a month after that, the team was on a case in Los Angeles, and I baited our unsub, unarmed. And this was one of those moments where mistakes happen and one of the exits from the building wasn't manned by anyone on the team, and the unsub had a gun to my head and had me in the back of a van soon enough. His partner drove, and the team couldn't keep up with him. They just didn't get to their vehicles in time, and the van easily lost them in the traffic." At this point, Emily traced the rim of her coffee cup with her blunt finger, seeing if she could make it sing. She knew that if she looked up at her mother right now, she'd lose the nerve she'd mustered up and would never finish her story, but that wouldn't mean her mother wouldn't guess. Emily felt her cheeks losing their little color and surmised that her mother was guessing by now what Emily was about to say, so Emily decided she might as well let her mother hear the words instead of having to wonder. "I was missing for a day and a half before the team tracked me down. And before I go any further, please know that I will not go into detail about this. There are a handful of people on the planet who know what exactly went on, and they're all trained professionals on the matter. Anyway, I was…sexually abused by both the unsubs, and when the team found us, the unsubs committed suicide by cop. They'd had their fun, I guess. But I didn't tell anyone on the team about the sexual aspect—"

"Em, did they—"

Emily finally looked up at her mother and saw the tears leaving gleaming trails down her cheeks. Maybe she had been right. Maybe this was something a mother should never have to hear.

"No, no, they didn't rape me." The words felt strange coming from Emily's lips, even though she'd said them a few times before, both to Hotch and to her therapists.

"Then what did they—"

"Mom, I told you, I'm not going into details. Not there, anyway. I'm already regretting saying anything about it—"

"I know I look otherwise, but I'm glad you told me. I know we're not the closest mother and daughter around, but this is big. Maybe you don't want to tell me everything that happens every day of your life, but you should feel safe in telling me this."

A large knot had formed by now in Emily's stomach at the sight of her mother crying. "Mom—"

Elizabeth waved her away and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue from a box nearby. "I'm okay. Please, go on."

"Are you sure?" Elizabeth nodded, so Emily obliged. "Well, I didn't report any of the abuse to anyone right away, not even the doctors and nurses who examined me afterwards. I figured it made no difference to them where the bruises came from." Emily went no further into any details that would convey to her mother the extent of what she'd been through. She had never told Hotch this, and she never considered it an outright lie—just a lie of omission—but she had gotten blood work done a few times after the abduction, just to be safe. That sort of information fell into the category of things that no one else needed to think about. At this point in time, she didn't see herself sharing any more details with Hotch than the sparse amount he already knew (though she feared that someday, he might break her resolve regarding this matter), and she definitely didn't see the benefit in telling her mother.

"But," Emily continued, "I did end up telling Aaron a few weeks later, and he made me go to therapy, and I kept going."

"PTSD?"

Emily nodded and reached out for another cookie, in awe that she could even think about food right now.

"What were your symptoms?"

Emily eyed her mother to gauge her readiness before answering. Deciding she looked more or less okay for now, she replied, "Flashbacks. I wasn't sleeping well. But once I told him and started going to therapy—and I have reason to believe it was telling _him_ that helped more than the therapy did—the flashbacks stopped. Even when we worked on sex crimes, all I needed, I guess, was to know someone knew what I'd gone through, someone that was in the same room as me. He partnered up with me as much as he could, and he became my support system. We never really talked about it. He'd just catch my eye from time to time to make sure I was okay, and I was. Working on sex crimes was still never quite like it was before—I couldn't compartmentalize as well when it came to that, so I always felt a little anxiety, but the flashbacks had stopped. Over the next couple of years, we grew a lot closer, and I got to know his son, Jack, really well, too. I was there for him to the best of my ability when Jack and his mother, Haley, had to go into protective custody—I remember telling you all about that, and then her eventual murder."

Elizabeth nodded, her cheeks now dry, but her eyes red. "That was heartbreaking."

Emily mirrored the nodding. "It was." They both let another moment pass in silence, as if out of respect for Haley's death. "I tried to be there for him while he recovered from that, too, and then I realized that it had been a really long time since I'd had feelings for him that were strictly friendly. Too soon after Haley died, I found myself ready to get back into this little pattern we had going, where it seemed like we were always one step closer. He wasn't nearly ready, though, and I ignored any resistance, and read into the tiniest positive signs—you know how it is when you want something so badly that you only seek evidence that confirms you'll get what you want, right?"

Her mother nodded and tucked her forefinger between her lips, watching attentively. "Well, that was me. I know now that he didn't resist because he didn't feel the same way—we've talked about it, and he did want a relationship, but he wasn't ready. And I just couldn't see that. The tension I caused, coupled with the fact that Jack was getting older and Aaron wanted to be home with him, led him to go back and ask for a retirement package they'd offered to him after Haley's murder but he'd turned down. When he told the entire team he was retiring, it was news to me, too, and I was hurt. I was beyond hurt. His last month there was probably our worst since we've been friends. I felt like I'd had the rug pulled out from underneath me. He claimed he wanted to remain friends, that he'd just made that choice so he could be home with Jack more, and get a less intense job, but that didn't really happen. He didn't call, I didn't call, he tried to apologize, but it was half-assed so I cussed him out." Emily stopped to laugh at the memory. "Wow, this feels like it was just yesterday, but so much has happened since then. Anyway, with him gone, my flashbacks came back, so I went back to therapy. He and I went several months without having a real conversation, only seeing each other when we had to. Like I said, the flashbacks came back, and worse than ever, because my support system was gone. The therapy wasn't working, and eventually I had a flashback in the middle of the day while working a case. I decided then that I couldn't do my job effectively anymore, so I resigned. JJ, Henry and Charlotte's mother, caught on eventually that I'd had feelings for Aaron—but I never told her about what happened in L.A.—and lo and behold, a month later she asked me and Aaron to be Charlotte's godparents. Who were we to say no?"

"Of course."

"The night she and her husband passed away, I remember still being sulky about how things had ended with Aaron. It was right after Valentine's Day, and we all say it's a stupid greeting card holiday, but I remember seeing the look on your face that one year when you thought Dad had forgotten. I was feeling very sorry for myself. The police came, and suddenly I had two orphans on my hands. I try not to think about that night very much anymore, because obviously," Emily said, pointing to her reddening eyes, "it still hurts, and I still miss them so much, but one thing I do wonder is why I called him first. But I did, even though we were still not on friendly terms. He seemed eager to prove himself again, though, and I think that's part of the reason he agreed to take the kids with me, and maybe wanting him in my life again is a reason I let it happen that way. Both bad reasons. Even though it was pretty much spelled out in Will and JJ's will that they wanted it to be us who raised the kids, part of me was wary.

"I hadn't had a flashback since the one that made me decide to leave the BAU, and I didn't have any more for a few months. He and I started out with the agreement that we were doing this only as friends, which was more my decision than his, but we tried." Emily's eyebrow twitched at the thought of how long they'd gone pretending they didn't still have feelings for one another.

"I take it you didn't succeed?" Elizabeth said without judgment.

"Well, I had a flashback one night, and then another one maybe a week and a half later." Emily left out the fact that the second flashback had been the night of their family dinner of doom, not wanting her mother to feel responsible. "The same night of the second one, I had a third, and Aaron and I, to be honest, were on the fast track to failing at the just-friends thing when it happened. The flashback set us back, needless to say, and I went back into therapy. That was four or five months ago. The therapist I started out with wasn't working out so well, so I found a better one, a really good one, and I've been flashback-free since sometime in May, and things _were_ going great. We legally adopted Henry and Charlotte—which sounds like a much bigger deal than it actually is, because in my eyes, it's mostly a piece of paper—and, let's see…Aaron's ex-sister-in-law and I are finally getting along, we put a swing set up in the back yard, we potty-trained Henry, not all in that order, but it's been a really nice summer. The kids have been doing great and it feels so much like the family that it is. Aaron and I were doing great, too, and we were growing a lot closer again once my flashbacks stopped again. Eventually we came upon some sort of unspoken agreement that things weren't going to stay platonic after all." Emily stopped and swallowed, eying her mother, whose forehead crinkled.

"That's why you're here, isn't it?" Elizabeth said, again without accusation, instead with the sweetness of a knowing mother.

Emily sighed. "Yeah. About a month ago, we almost slept together," Emily said, grateful that the frankness in her relationship with her mother allowed her to say such things without needing to beat around the bush too much. "But I froze." She shrugged. "It wasn't a flashback, but I had the same feeling that is _so_ hard to describe to someone who doesn't feel it. So we stopped, and in the heat of the moment he said some things he wouldn't have otherwise said, things that insinuated that he wasn't content with a relationship that didn't involve sex, and although he apologized for them, that didn't really fix things. Not that it was his responsibility to fix them. I think he's dealing with this in the only way that makes sense to him, and that's to protect himself, and I can't blame him. I led him on in the sense that I made him believe things would go further, but not in the sense that I didn't believe the same thing. I wanted to be with him. I really did. And he took my not being ready as a sign that this wasn't such a good idea. He told me a long time ago, when we first talked about how we'd be living together, that he would be happy in a more chaste relationship, if I felt like I couldn't have sex. After that night, he admitted he wasn't sure, and said we needed to take a step back." Emily took a moment to drink some of the coffee she'd been ignoring. She let it warm her insides and made sure her mother had no contributions or questions before continuing. "I feel like I screwed up royally in thinking that we could have gone so far in one night. I underestimated the effects of my past, hurting and emasculating him in the process, and now I'm faced with the ugly truth. I should have known better, first off, than to go so fast, and second, to even think that he'd be okay without sex. Even though he said it, it should have sounded too good to be true."

"Wouldn't you rather find out _now_ that he's a human being with a sex drive, rather than once you're already in a relationship?"

Emily shrugged again. "Honestly, what we had before that night wasn't a friendship. It's been so long since we just had a friendship. I think that's what makes this so hard. How do you go back to being friends with someone when you don't remember the last time he was just a friend? And when he's admitted he has feelings for you on multiple occasions? That's not something I can just let go of."

"I didn't say it would be easy," Elizabeth said, setting her coffee down and reaching for Emily's. Emily let her mother take her cup from her hand, then watched in hidden wonderment as her mother took both of her hands in her own. "Em, you know what worries me right now?"

"What?" Elizabeth's hands had stirred up a need to cry in Emily.

"The fact that you don't seem half as worried about your health as you are about your relationship with him. How long has it been since that night?"

"About a month."

"And what has it been like at home?"

"It was really rough the first few days. We didn't talk much. It's been steadily getting better, but not to the way things were before."

"Does he seem upset with you still?"

"Not really. More upset with the situation."

"Then he's not going anywhere, Emmy. It sounds like he's in this—whatever _this_ is—for the long haul. It sounds like he's invested in helping you get better, and has been since the beginning. I think he would agree with me when I say that you need to focus your efforts on getting better. I'm no psychiatrist, but it sounds to me like you don't quite understand your body again, not yet. You're a different person than you were before all of that happened. Not a worse person, but a different one. Learn how to listen to yourself before you worry any further about being with him."

"Can I ask you something?" Emily asked, still absorbing the enormity of what her mother had just said, realizing she'd known this for the past month but had needed someone else to say it for it to become advice worth taking.

"Emily, you can ask me absolutely anything."

"You're not opposed to the idea of me and Aaron being together anymore? Last time we talked, I thought you were going to strangle me."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes, smiled, then laid a hand on Emily's clammy cheek. "I want you to be happy. If you think that being with this man wouldn't upset the household, then I think you should focus on your therapy and hope that he's willing to wait for you. From what you've told me, I highly doubt that would be a problem."

"You're right," Emily said, squeezing the hand that still remained joined with hers. "I can't focus on both things at once. I'll go crazy. I _have_ gone crazy. I snapped at one of my best friends tonight because she wanted to talk about it, and she's the sweetest woman in the world. I made her cry. I'm not myself right now. I'm less myself than I think I've been since JJ died. Aaron said it a month ago, and you're saying it now. We're obviously not ready for a relationship. Now's not the time..."

"Now's not the time," Elizabeth echoed.

"But there will be a time."

"Of course there will be."

Emily took a deep breath and let it out. "I can't believe I'm forty and I'm running crying to my mother when I have relationship problems," she muttered.

"Em, If you're _seventy_ and, God forbid, I'm still around, I hope you'll still come to me."

"Even if I'm doing crazy things like adopting my friends' kids and moving in with my ex-boss?"

"Well, I can get past those things just this once, but I would hope it's safe to assume you won't be doing any more of that. I wouldn't object to more grandchildren someday, though."

"_More_ grandchildren? What, are you going to let them call you 'Grandma'?"

Elizabeth shrugged and got up, ending the conversation on her own terms with a thin smile. "What else would I have them call me? Ambassador?"

Emily laughed softly and shook her head. "I wouldn't have put it past you."

**A/N: Reviews are love. Please leave one! Thanks :)**


	82. Coming Clean Again

Emily let herself inside around ten, and quietly so, not sure how settled in the household was. She locked up and left her heels by the front door and made her way to the living room, where she found a light still on. Hotch sat in the recliner, behind his laptop, looking bored. "Hey," she said quietly.

Hotch held up a shushing finger, then rolled his eyes when Henry appeared at the top of the stairs. "He wouldn't go to sleep," Hotch muttered as Henry descended the steps one at a time, bleary-eyed and pouting.

"What's the matter?" Emily asked Henry, crouching down and reaching out for him. He didn't answer, only walking into her arms and latching his own around her neck. "All right then," she said, picking him up and sitting down on the couch.

"He kept asking where you were when I put him to bed," Hotch said with a smirk.

Emily put her chin to her chest to get a good view of Henry as she swept his hair from his forehead. "He doesn't feel warm. Are you just cranky?" Again he didn't respond, but he did relinquish his hold with one hand to stick his thumb in his mouth.

"Just a mama's boy," Hotch said, trying not to sound hurt.

"Nonsense. He lets you tuck him in all the time."

"Only when he knows you're right down the hall, and most nights you tuck them in, too."

"Reid and Sean have both babysat him overnight and he did fine. He's just being picky tonight." Emily sat back on the couch and pulled Henry close to her. "You can stay with me, but you have to go to sleep, okay?" she said gently, dropping a kiss in his hair.

"How did your visit with your mother go?" Hotch asked, putting away his computer and the footrest of the recliner, sitting forward with his elbows on his knees.

"Really well, actually. I ended up opening up to her about pretty much everything, and I'm pretty sure she still thinks this whole thing is a bit crazy, but she's a lot more supportive now."

"What do you mean by 'pretty much everything,' if you don't mind me asking?" Hotch wondered both whether Emily had discussed her sexual abuse and whether she had mentioned their relationship hiccups.

"I'd say she knows everything you know. And she had some insight, to boot."

"She did? What was it?"

Emily sighed and rubbed soft circles on Henry's back. She stayed silent to listen to his breathing, which had evened out. He was asleep again. "That I'm not ready—_we're_ not ready."

"That's kind of stating the obvious, is it not?"

Emily grinned. "Yeah, but I'm glad she was at least honest with me. That wasn't all she said, though. She also thinks I should make my therapist a bigger part of this. Let the professional decide whether I really understand myself before I get into a relationship."

"I agree. Wholeheartedly."

On one hand, Emily felt somewhat betrayed that Hotch had even been thinking about what she should do without sharing his thoughts, even though she knew he hadn't had the opportunity to tell her, since they'd spent the last month avoiding the topic like the plague. On the other hand, she had to give him credit for pushing for a conversation between the two of them that night, and his words gave her some much-needed reassurance. If he had been thinking about how to make a relationship between the two of them work, then he was still considering one. This turned his "I don't know" from a month ago into something much more promising. "You do?" she asked.

"I do."

"How long, uh…how long have you been thinking about this?" she asked with some trepidation. She hoped he would tell her outright that they still had a chance, without requiring further prodding from her. "Since we got back."

Emily couldn't tear her eyes away from Hotch's, but she found that she didn't want to, even though the access he must have into her mind through their mutual gaze left her feeling naked. She couldn't decide whether to be ecstatic or disappointed. The thought of a relationship with her had never been off the table after all, but instead of letting her know this, he'd spent a month making her feel like he'd had enough of her. But quickly, and fortunately, she realized that she hadn't been open to him either. She hadn't told him that his avoiding her had cut to the bone. She hadn't asked, until now, anything regarding whether he'd made a decision.

"I know, I should have said something sooner," Hotch said. "I just didn't think it was my place to say if we weren't talking about the matter."

Emily shook her head. "No, I understand. We've both been closed off. But since we are talking now, can I ask you something?" Emily saw Hotch's non-answer, and his still keen stare, as permission. "Do you think it's just me who's not ready, or do you think it's both of us?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is this only about me not being ready like we already discussed, or is this also about you not knowing if you still want a relationship with me if it might never involve sex?" She felt her face blaze. Though they prided themselves on being able to be frank with one another when they needed to, she still wasn't comfortable with it.

"Emily, it's not about whether I _want_ that kind of relationship with you. I do. If I knew that I would be satisfied with that, and that I would never get frustrated, that I would never lash out at you like that again, then things would be much different. But I still don't know. I don't know if everything else is enough for me. It doesn't mean I don't _love_ everything else—"

"So when you said the benefits were only benefits for me, it was just in the heat of the moment? You didn't mean it?"

"Of course I didn't mean it. I…Honestly, I'm surprised you even remember me saying that. I hardly remember it myself. It was definitely impulsive. I didn't mean it. At all." Hotch looked away from Emily and down to his feet.

"Okay," Emily said quietly, shifting Henry in her lap. Hotch got up from the chair and approached her, arms open, to take Henry from her. She let him, watching him carry the boy back upstairs. Her mind was a mess of images of their last encounter, the trip home, the heartbreaking moments since then, and finally the benefits Hotch had been referring to—the moments where they'd found themselves curled up together, close enough to hear one another's heartbeats. She hadn't sorted through a single thing by the time Hotch reappeared and, to her fear yet simultaneous pleasure, sat beside her, close but not as close as he had once been. "Tell me what you're thinking about." They both stared straight ahead, not needing eye contact at the moment.

"How things used to be," Emily said, finding herself choking up, but successfully warding off the tears. "Everything was fine, you know? We were doing so well like that, before that night."

"I know it felt like we were doing well at the time, and it did for me, too, but it ultimately led to us finding out we weren't ready for the rest. I miss the closeness, but it escalated into something that was too much. And if I knew that I could keep that from happening again—if I knew I could guarantee I'd have the sense to put on the brakes and stop things before they went any further, then I'd gladly go back to that place. But like I said, I just don't know. That's why I've been keeping my distance."

"I noticed," Emily said dryly, though shooting Hotch a grin to let him know she wasn't upset with him for that, at least not any longer.

"I'm sorry if I've made things more uncomfortable than they've had to be since we got back. But I really don't trust myself at this point in time."

"I understand. Can I ask you something else?"

"Of course."

"Do you think about…us? T_ogether _together? If that's too personal of a question, I understand."

"It is a personal question," Hotch said after some thought, "but not too personal. I do think about it. And I think the reason it's not too personal of a question is because whether we're still thinking about sex probably says a lot about whether we're prepared to go without it. It's important. Don't you think?"

"You're being annoyingly wise, you know." Emily finally turned her head to look at Hotch, only to find he'd beaten her to the punch. Her small grin faded when she saw his.

"Do you think about it?" he asked back.

"I do," she admitted, visions of a physical union rendering her incapable of thinking about anything else for a moment. She let her eyes drift closed for a moment.

"I think that if it's something we're both still thinking about, then it's obvious that it's something we both still want."

"Then we're not ready to deny ourselves," Emily said.

"Right."

"I'm not gonna lie, this is _so_ frustrating. But you're right. Paws off, I guess."

"I know we just dissected the reasons behind why we can't be in a relationship right now, but I think we need to shift the focus. You need to focus on your therapy, not worry about whether this will happen. Your mother said it, too. You need to focus on getting better. Of course, this will never be cured, but obviously there's still a ways to go. So just keep that at the top of your list."

"I know," Emily said calmly, nodding and flattening her hands in front of her face in a praying position. "Easier said than done."

"Would it help if I went with you, even just once? Maybe I could be more helpful if I knew what went on during your sessions."

"We talk about the details in my sessions."

"Ah." Hotch remembered Emily's repulsion at the idea of him knowing exactly what had happened to her.

"Maybe," she said after a few moments. "I'm not promising anything, though. I really don't know if I'm comfortable enough to have someone come with me. It's become my…private place, you know?"

"I understand. Just something to think about."

"I really like her, you know. My shrink."

"Any particular reason?"

"No idea. It just feels like she's the right one. I wish I would have scheduled my sessions on Thursdays, though."

"Why's that?"

"Therapy Thursday has such a nice ring to it."

"The last thing we need is for it to become a joke," Hotch said, and not with a hint of amusement.

"Just trying to lighten the mood a little," Emily replied airily, slipping her arms around Hotch's neck without thinking. She remembered only after she'd started to hug him that they'd agreed to remain at a distance. But he returned the embrace, even slid his palm up and down her back gently. "I'm glad we talked," she said, her chin over his shoulder.

"Me too."

Emily held on for as long as she could justify doing so, then drew back, sighing. "Ahh, I have to call Garcia soon. I was such a grade-A bitch to her."

"Did you mean it?"

"Of course not."

"Then she'll forgive you."

"I hope so." Emily got up and walked toward the stairs. Hotch took a moment to turn out the lights before following her. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he replied.

Emily went in a relatively straight path to her bedroom, and Hotch hung a left to his. Even though she'd been instructed by two people to think of herself before she thought about herself with him, she couldn't help but wonder with the heaviest of hearts if she'd ever go left, with him, when they turned in for the night.

**A/N: Please leave a review! They are much appreciated and highly motivating :)**


	83. Charlie

**A/N: Hope everyone enjoys some fluff and a teensy bit of angst (SussiRay and I call it "flangst"). Thanks for reading!**

**September 2011**

"All right, let's see if we can freak her out," Emily said to Charlotte before lifting her so that her face was in front of the peephole on Garcia's apartment door. Another tenant had let them into the building (who could suspect a nicely dressed woman with a baby?).

She had snapped at Garcia only the night before. Hotch had suggested giving Garcia a little more time to process things, But Emily had refused to let the matter go unattended. Even though she had made amends with her mother, which had been such a long time coming that it should have given her enough cheer to last ages, and she had straightened things out with Hotch to a degree, her tiff with Garcia had kept her too wound up to sleep well. She knew Garcia deserved an apology. She knocked.

"What on Earth?" Garcia asked before opening up.

"This baby could have been anyone, you know. You should really ask who's at the door first," Emily said with a smirk when Garcia reached out for Charlotte with ecstatic eyes.

"Come in, come in," she said much more chirpily than Emily ever would have expected.

"You sound…very much like yourself, I guess," Emily said with a raised eyebrow.

"Am I supposed to sound like anyone else?" Garcia retorted playfully.

"I was thinking you would open the door and tell me I'm a bitch and slam it in my face. Well, I don't _think_ you'd ever do that, but I deserve it."

"Nonsense." Garcia sat on her couch and patted the cushion next to her.

"No, Garcia, you're allowed to be mad at me. Actually, you're supposed to. What I said was so awful—I didn't mean it, but it was awful all the same. I'm so sorry."

Even though Garcia had been trying to get a smile out of Charlotte and was, as usual, totally enamored, she paused her game with funny faces and looked at her friend. "I was pushy and annoying. And I don't think what you said was entirely false. I think I have been leading you maybe not in the wrong direction, but urging you to go too fast."

"How on earth would you have known it was too fast? _I_ thought I was ready and it's _my_ body," Emily pointed out. "Everyone thought I was ready. You did, I did, Hotch did…"

"Regardless of whether I was right or wrong in the end, it wasn't okay for me to try and take the reigns like that. And to keep pushing you to talk about him when you obviously didn't want to. I think sometimes I forget that you're hurting so much and that it's not a little Harlequin romance novel," Garcia said, pushing her glasses up her nose. "I know you don't tell me all the bad stuff because you don't want to bring me down. And sometimes I forget that there's that…extra unpleasant material that you choose not to divulge, and that when you do tell me the not-so-fun stuff, you don't necessarily want to obsess over it like I do. I'm—"

"I don't want to hear an apology. I'm really not upset with you. I swear."

"I reserve the right to apologize, if for no other reason to alleviate my own guilt, no?"

Emily grinned halfheartedly and wrapped her arms around Garcia. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You know that, right?"

"I was just about to say the same thing."

"Oh, please. You don't need me. You were probably a much happier person without all this extra crap to take in," Emily said, sitting back against the couch and leaning over to play with the end of a lock of Charlotte's hair, which was curling at the end.

"Can we stop this?" Garcia asked. "You know we'll just keep going back and forth forever."

"True. God, I feel like I got off the hook way too easily. Can I, I don't know, do your dishes for you or something?"

Garcia smiled broadly. "I wouldn't stop you."

"Ready to change the subject?"

"I was born ready, princess. What's on your mind?"

Emily shrugged. "Not a whole lot. _Oh_—I talked to my mom last night. I felt like a total wreck and I just had this sudden urge to _really_ fix things with her, so I just showed up, and we talked, and it was amazing. She's not a hundred percent on agreeing with my choices but she was more supportive than I ever could have imagined. I really needed that. I think she was just ready to be done fighting with me, even though we weren't really fighting. But it was great. She even said she'd let the kids call her 'Grandma.'"

Garcia laid a hand on her heart and pushed her lower lip out. "That's so sweet. So maybe she'll come spend some time with you guys?"

"Yeah, I hope so."

"What about Sean? You mentioned he'd be making another visit next month for some birthday fun, maybe?"

"Yeah, three weeks from now, I think."

"Speaking of birthdays, I was thinking for yours—"

"No presents, no things that could be disguised as presents, no parties. Aaron and I already talked about it. Only for the kids."

"Maybe that applies to _you_ guys, but I can get you all the birthday presents I want."

"And I will return every single one."

"And do what with the money?"

"Buy you Christmas presents."

"I see. So you're serious? I can't even take you out for a mani-pedi?" Garcia pouted.

"We can go out for a mani-pedi but if anyone's paying, it's me."

"You're so difficult. Why?" Garcia handed the baby over and got up, heading over to her modest kitchen. "Wine?"

"Red, if you have it. And I know I'm difficult. I just like to keep you on your toes."

"You know," Garcia said, sitting on one foot as she took the seat next to Emily again and handed her a glass of merlot, "if you two are worried about money, maybe I could make the boys Halloween costumes. It's coming up."

"Oh, no, we're not worried about money. We're just being sensible. And it removes the awkwardness of trying to figure out what to get each other. But if you _want_ to make them costumes…"

"And help take them trick-or-treating?"

**October 2011**

"You'd better be joking about leaving that bike at the end of the driveway," Emily said sternly to Jack. She had just called him in to get his Halloween costume on, and he had dropped his brand new bicycle—a birthday gift from his father and Emily, down onto the concrete. He'd been treating his uncle's gift—a scooter—not much more nicely. He slunk guiltily back down the driveway and picked up his bike, walking it up into the garage.

"Thank you," Emily said, leading him inside. Reid was already helping Garcia get Henry into his homemade tyrannosaurus-rex costume fashioned out of green felt with stuffed white felt spines along the back.

"We should paint his face green, too," Reid said.

"You want to spend an hour washing it off?" Emily asked with a cocky grin.

"A costume is not complete without makeup. Glad I brought some," he replied, going to his leather messenger bag to pull out a Halloween makeup kit.

"This is like a dream come true," Garcia peeped, waiting to pull the head of Henry's costume on until his face was green to match.

"We're glad you're both so into it," Emily said thankfully. She motioned for Jack to come to her so she could put his blue stegosaurus costume on. "Otherwise it would've been one of us taking both boys out and the other one sitting at home alone with Charlotte, passing out candy. Or both of us going out with the boys _and_ Charlotte and then us being the neighborhood creeps who don't stay home to pass out candy."

"Not that I'm not happy to take the kids," Reid piped in, "but why is it so hard for one person to take both of them trick-or-treating?"

"Because they've been fighting a lot lately over one or the other getting more of this, or more of that, or a different color this, or a different color that. And anytime Henry knows someone's around to carry him, he gets lazy. So I'm guessing it's a two-person job. I'm glad I don't have to find out the hard way."

"You make it sound like no fun at all," Reid said, opening up a tiny plastic container of green face paint.

"Oh, it would be fun, but I think you two will enjoy it far more than we would. You are the king of Halloween or something, aren't you?"

"That I am," Reid said with a smile. "Henry, can you stop moving your head? Unless you want green hair."

"Want some blue makeup on your face?" Emily asked Jack, touching the tip of his nose, using her gentleness to remind him that she loved him despite having to scold him earlier.

"I want green," he whined, but softly, only to Emily.

"But you're a blue dinosaur, not a green one. Henry's green."

"Yeah, I know. _I_ wanted green, but Henry got it, and mine's itchy and I don't feel good," he continued, getting louder. Luckily, Henry didn't take the bait and start an argument over who had asked for which color.

"Jack, you're just fine. Listen to me. Your Aunt Penelope made this costume just for you, and it's very special, and you haven't even thanked her. Instead you're going to whine about the color? She asked you a month ago what color you wanted and you said blue."

"But I changed my mind."

"Sorry, sweetie, but it's a little late for that. Come here." She curled her finger to lead him closer to her. "If you want candy, you need to go say thank you, and that you're sorry for complaining," she whispered into his ear. Okay?"

Jack nodded and waddled with his thick dinosaur legs over to Garcia, who was getting out her camera. "Thanks, Auntie Penny," he said sheepishly.

Garcia eyed Emily knowingly before looking at him and pinching his nose. "You are very welcome, good sir."

"Hey, Jack," Emily said, lifting her eyebrows expectantly when he looked back at her.

"And I'm sorry I complained," Jack added to Garcia.

"I forgive you. Can we put some makeup on you?"

"Will I get more candy if I have makeup on?"

"You know what, probably…" Garcia said. "Where's Hotch, anyway? Didn't he leave for the store like half an hour ago?"

"Yeah, but that's probably how long it's going to take him to wait in line to buy candy the night the entire city is trick-or-treating. I think I just heard him pull in, though. We'll see if he brought home anything good."

"The candy's not for you, Mommy. It's for kids with costumes," Jack pointed out. "Like us."

"Good point," Emily said. Even though the baby would be staying home with her and Hotch, Garcia had insisted on costuming her as well. Once Emily put all the right limbs through all the right holes, Charlotte was a pink triceratops to match her brothers. Emily suspected Garcia had had far too much fun with the costumes and had probably spent far too much time on them. She almost felt sad seeing everyone dressed in the costumes, knowing they would be used for an hour or two and then forgotten, maybe to be reused by a younger sibling a couple of years later once they grew big enough. "Want to go see Auntie Penny?" she asked Charlotte, setting her down on the floor. She had been looking like she'd wanted to start crawling for weeks now, but hadn't committed yet. She went for the now standard belly squirm across the tile floor of the kitchen, which drew just as delighted a sound from Garcia as a crawl would have.

A rustle of plastic shopping bags announced Hotch's entrance into the house.

"I take it you found candy and we don't have to hand out pennies?" Emily said, shooting him a quick, almost secret smile.

"Even better. The candy was already on sale. But I would've given out quarters. I'm not that cheap. Whoa, look at you guys," he said in wonderment. "Garcia, wow…Those are…wow."

"Thank you, thank you," she said, taking a tiny bow from her seat, then getting back to working on Jack's face.

"Charlie too, huh?" he added as he watched the baby explore.

"Charlie?" Garcia said, her nose turned up.

"Exactly. See, Aaron? Garcia agrees. Charlie is not an appropriate nickname," Emily said, slightly impatiently, with a hint of fun tossed in since they had company. Hotch had started with the nickname a week ago and wouldn't let go of it. "It's a boy's name," she added, just in case anyone needed clarification over why she was objecting.

"Yeah, Hotch, sorry. Nicknames are great, but there are plenty of more girly nicknames for Charlotte. Carly, Lottie…" Garcia said, shrugging apologetically.

"It's well-documented that kids who are raised more androgynously grow up to be better-adjusted," Reid said. "Let the boys play with dolls, let Charlotte play with cars, and give her a boyish nickname. They'll probably all be better off for it."

"There we go," Hotch said to Emily. "That settles it."

"You gonna buy Barbies for the boys, then?" Emily asked.

"Nope. They have enough toys already."

—

"What time was it supposed to start?" Emily asked Hotch. They sat on the front porch together, Charlotte in Hotch's lap, a giant bowl of miniature candy bars in Emily's.

"Six," Hotch answered.

"I don't see a soul. And only the lady across the street has her porch light on. Where is everyone?"

"I'm sure they'll come," Hotch said.

"Not if no one passes out candy. And here I was thinking _we'd_ be the lame neighbors who didn't pass out candy. I'm glad Garcia and Reid had the sense to take a car and find a busy neighborhood, but now we're stuck with five pounds of chocolate."

"Don't pretend you're not thrilled about that," Hotch cracked.

"Yeah, you've got me there," she said, opening up a piece and popping it into her mouth. For a moment she thought of unwrapping another and hand-feeding it to Hotch, but that moment was a very short one. She had assumed that as time went by, it would get easier to restrain herself from taking advantage of the fact that Hotch missed the physical contact, easier to keep from touching him as she walked by, to keep from sitting next to him on the couch when other furniture was free, but it hadn't. She'd still been successful, but it seemed to be more of a feat with each passing day.

The crisp sweetness of the autumn air was sending images through her mind that didn't belong there, that people had told her to abandon. They weren't sexual in nature, but they were somewhere between that and what she had right now, which she couldn't help but think was not much at all, no matter how silly a thought that was. She wished that knowing that Hotch wanted to be with her would bring her more happiness than it did. She'd thought that that sort of knowledge would have brought her peace of mind, and it had, but only to a certain extent. Knowing that the man sitting next to her might be enduring the same pain gave her little comfort.

"You all right?" Hotch asked, reaching his hand out for a piece of candy, as if to give himself an excuse to look Emily's way.

"I'm fine," she said, aware that she needed to keep a conversation going or risk revealing the fact that she was wallowing once again. "Remember when we were kids and we actually went trick-or-treating _on_ Halloween? And not till it was dark out? I mean, come on, it's still too light out."

"We did a lot of things as kids that would get parents in trouble these days."

"Like ride our bikes in the middle of the street? Neglect! That woman three houses down with the fifty kids was down my throat the other day because I let Jack ride around in the street. I was watching him, but apparently that doesn't matter."

Judging from his silence, Hotch had nothing to add. Emily wandered back to the dangerous mindset, wondering whether Hotch might be thinking about why they sat six inches from each other instead of three, or if he was wishing he could put an arm around her. She was just starting to feel a knot form in her stomach when Hotch said, "Think we should call it a night and go inside?"

"I want to stay out and see the boys come up the sidewalk in their costumes and hear them say 'trick or treat.' Call me sad…"

"No problem. I'll get the baby to bed. It's about that time."

"The baby? Not Charlie?" Emily asked when Hotch got up.

He shrugged. "You don't like it."

She sighed and leaned her head back against the bricks. "If you want to call her that, go for it. I probably won't be jumping on that anytime soon, but the fact that you have a nickname for her is cute."

"Wasn't going for cute, but all right."

Emily waited another hour with her thoughts as her only company. Her therapist had agreed that it didn't sound like she was ready for a relationship yet. Her advice had been to continue seeing her at least every other week, if for nothing else than to keep her disorder in the forefront of her mind. Emily, desperate for that moment when she finally had her therapist's blessing, kept going weekly. There wasn't a magical cure for her aversion to sex, but her therapist had at least offered to monitor her progress and answer her questions, of which Emily had none so far. None that she knew were answerable, anyway.

She'd found a bit of relief through Garcia, too, who had hinted subtly to wanting to know what was going on with Hotch not long after her and Emily's spat. Emily had shared her and Hotch's decision. Garcia had offered just enough support for that idea to keep Emily hoping that everyone else was right. She figured they probably were, but it was much more satisfying to think that she was right and everyone (and everything) else was just holding her back.

Finally, Garcia's car appeared down the block. Emily poked her head inside and called Hotch. He got out in time to see a green tyrannosaurus rex and a blue stegosaurus waddle up the driveway, each toting a full plastic pail of candy, Reid and Garcia following them.

"Ooh, who could this be?" Emily asked Hotch, picking up the candy bowl, which she'd placed in the chair he'd left vacant.

"I don't know. Think they're trick-or-treaters?" he asked, stuffing his hands in his jeans pockets.

Henry huffed and puffed up the stairs and set his candy on the porch. "I'm tired," he declared.

"No 'trick or treat?'" she asked, setting down the bowl and stooping over to pull a couple of his dirty blonde locks out of his makeup, which was already melting off. He shook his head. "All right, but we have to get you in the bath first. We can't let you go to bed with a green face."

"Why not?" he asked as Emily walked into the house with him.

"My costume is still itchy," Jack whined when he met his father at the door. Hotch let him inside, and once Reid and Garcia were gone for the evening, he joined Emily in her and the boys' bathroom, where Henry was already shivering in the tub and Jack was disrobing in a hurry.

"All better?" Hotch asked when Jack's costume was discarded on the floor.

Jack shook his head and practically ripped his shirt off.

"Uh-oh," Hotch mumbled. "Emily, I think we've found the culprit."

**A/N: Please leave a review! It only takes a moment and it makes this writer very happy.**

**AS ALWAYS, thanks to my two betas, SussiRay and allthatisevil. :D  
**


	84. The BAU's Newest Recruit Has Chickenpox

"Anything?" Emily asked Hotch, who had just finished inspecting Henry from top to bottom. Jack now sat in a fresh tub of water, crying because every time he reached to scratch the emerging spotty rash on his chest or arms, Emily grasped his wrists and stopped him.

"Nothing," Hotch reported. They had found nothing yet on Charlotte, either.

"I hope Jack caught it from daycare. Then they hopefully caught it around the same time and they can go through it together. But, just in case, I think Jack should give Henry a goodnight hug and kiss, don't you think?" Emily asked Hotch with a grin.

"I think you're right. He might've had them already or might've been vaccinated. We'll have to look for his records. I guess we'll find out soon enough."

"At least we don't have to worry about Jack going to school looking like a Smurf," Emily said.

"What's a Smurf?" Jack asked through sniffles and teary eyes as Emily rubbed away at his forehead with a wet cloth.

"It's a little blue person." Emily smiled and poked the end of Jack's nose. "Is there anything we can do to keep him from scratching besides calamine lotion and mittens? Want to go look up something online about chickenpox?"

"Already done. Oatmeal bath sound like fun, Jack?"

"Oatmeal's for breakfast, Daddy, not for baths."

"Hey," Emily said, grabbing Jack's hand again when he went to scratch. "This is going to get worse before it gets better. But it will never get better if you scratch."

"Never?"

"Never," Hotch piped in. "Can you stay home tomorrow?" he asked Emily.

"I can probably pull off a day or two. But this is going to last longer than that. Do you think maybe Jessica could take them for a bit? She works from home, right?"

"Yeah, I'll talk to her. What about the baby? Think we should expose her too?"

"I have no idea," Emily said, shrugging. "Guess we'll have to look that up, too. Or maybe it's in one of the books. Did you ever read yours?"

"First chapter, maybe."

—

"Can I sleep with you?" Jack asked with his best pout, standing in Emily's doorway with sleepy eyes.

"Hey, I thought you were asleep?" Emily had just gotten into bed herself. They had put the boys to bed two hours ago after trying their best to make sure and spread Jack's chickenpox to Henry.

"They itch again."

"Okay, go get the lotion and cotton balls from the bathroom. I'll do you up again." Emily threw back her covers and Jack was back in a flash with the bottle of calamine lotion and a handful of cotton balls. Emily pulled over her trash can and signaled for Jack to climb up on the edge of her bed.

"Am I going to school tomorrow?" Jack asked as Emily began to cover his rashes.

"Nope. You can't go to school or daycare while you're sick. We had to call your daycare and your school to let them know. So now everyone knows you. You're famous."

Jack giggled and lifted his arm so Emily could access a couple of spots on his side. "Who's gonna watch me?"

"Well, tomorrow, I'm going to stay home with all of you. Henry has a little bit of a fever, so I think he might be getting the chickenpox very soon."

"Why do they call them chickenpox?"

"That," Emily said dabbing a spot in the center of Jack's chest, "is a very good question."

"Can I have a popsicle?"

"No, you may not. You need to go to sleep. You're sick and you need your rest." Emily set the supplies on her nightstand and came nose-to-nose with Jack, who smiled at the attention. "But I love you."

"I love you too. Do you love Daddy, too, still?"

The chickenpox had been enough to distract Emily from her pining for the evening. _Count on Jack to remind me._

"What do you mean, _still_?" she asked, rubbing his unaffected shoulders in little circles, effectively hiding her surprise from him.

"You don't hug and kiss anymore."

Emily was relatively certain that any kisses of any kind had only been shared when she and Hotch had been alone, or at least when Jack wasn't around. She didn't even remember sharing so much as a kiss on the cheek while in his presence, and they certainly hadn't kissed on the lips in front of the Jack in months. "We only kissed once, honey, and that was a long time ago. Remember, we talked about this."

"How come you don't hug anymore, then?"

Hotch hadn't told Emily about the similar conversation he'd already had with Jack, so she didn't tell Jack he'd already had this discussion as well. "We still hug."

"When?"

"Jack." Hotch emerged in the doorway in his pajamas, his arms crossed. "You need to get back to bed."

"Can I stay with you, Mommy?" Jack asked. "I promise I won't scratch."

Emily looked to Hotch, not wanting to undermine his authority. "Up to you," Hotch muttered to her.

"No, I think you'll be okay on your own," she said, turning to Jack. "Goodnight. Again." Emily smoothed a hand over Jack's hair and kissed an empty spot on his forehead.

"_Please_?"

"You _know_ whining and begging never gets you your way. Back to bed."

Jack moaned and hopped down to the floor, then squeezed between his dad and the door frame to get to the hallway.

"I had that talk with him a month ago, the night you were at your mother's. Apparently he has to hear everything at least twice," Hotch said flatly, stepping inside and leaning against Emily's tall dresser.

"How much did you hear, exactly?" Emily asked circumspectly.

"Not important," Hotch answered, knowing that Emily telling Jack she loved his father didn't nearly equate to Emily telling Hotch herself. She was merely trying to get a persistent child off her case. It didn't make it less strange to hear, but he understood that it meant nothing in the way of whether she was in love with him.

"Do you think your mom might be able to help out, too? I know Jessica will be fine with helping, but it'll probably grow old, and you know Jack milks it when he's sick. She probably won't be able to get much done. And we have to at least keep Henry home now, too. Even if he doesn't get sick, he's definitely carrying."

Emily shook her head. "I just talked to my mom the other day. She's got to go to the Ukraine for a month and she's leaving tomorrow afternoon."

"Why?"

"Beats me, but it's nice and convenient, isn't it? Not that I think she's lying. Just…" Emily sighed and ran her hands through her hair. "It would be nice not to have to dump this all on Jessica, you're right. Babysitting for an evening is one thing. Taking care of possibly three sick kids is another."

"Well, we can rotate. You take tomorrow, I take the day after, then Jessica…"

"I'm still on the shit list at work. Hopefully it's a short bout and hopefully Henry starts up tomorrow so we can get it all over with. And the baby, too. Supposedly it's unlikely that they'll get it before they reach a year because of the antibodies they've received in the womb, but if they do catch it, it's usually mild. Let's hope that if she's going to get it, she's already about to break out. I just want this to be over with, as cute as it is."

"It won't be that bad," Hotch said, watching Emily open up one of a couple chocolates she'd brought upstairs from their bowl that had gone nearly untouched. "They'll just be extra whiny and we'll probably have to throw mittens on them at some point. An extra bath or two a day if they need it."

"Yeah," Emily said, chewing on her candy. "Want one?" She offered Hotch the other.

"Just brushed, but thanks." He knew he'd created his own cue to leave, but seeing Emily's staring at the wall as she sat at the edge of her bed tempted him to stay, and temptation won over. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"What happened to the honesty thing? We haven't talked in a while."

"What's there to talk about?" Emily asked, poorly feigning nonchalance.

"Jack's not only noticed that we don't act the same way around each other anymore, but he insists it's true, and you look like you have something you want to say."

"Well, we don't need to let a six-year-old wannabe profiler run our lives, and just because I _want_ to say something doesn't mean I _should_."

"Does it concern us?" Hotch inquired, wanting to sit down next to her but aware enough of the situation to know better. "Because if it does, then I have a right to know. We found out the hard way that this will never work out if we pretend there's nothing to talk about," Hotch said when Emily didn't answer. He shut the door.

"You probably already know exactly what I'm thinking. That's the annoying part."

"What do you mean?"

Emily sat under her covers now and picked at her fingers in her lap. "I feel like saying it won't really do anything. You already know. We've already talked about it. There's no need to rehash it."

"Do you have any idea how difficult you're making this?" Hotch asked as kindly as he could manage.

"All right, then, here goes. I'm sick of pretending. I miss what we had before we went to Lynchburg, just like I already told you a month ago. I keep thinking it'll get easier, but I think that knowing what we already had, knowing how perfect it felt—even if it wasn't good for us in the long run—just makes it harder. It's the difference between, I don't know, growing up with a dairy allergy versus growing into one. The first person doesn't really know what she's missing but the second one is miserable and just wants some damn ice cream. Just a tiny scoop. Maybe a whole pint, but you know what, a scoop would be better than nothing. I just don't want to keep bringing it up because you've already said how you feel about the matter, and it's not fair for me to put pressure on you to do something you don't know if you can do. And I don't want to make you feel guilty. But the longer this goes on, the more it stresses me out, and the harder it is to hide it. I'm sorry."

"You don't need to apologize. You can't help the fact that it bothers you. Just like I can't help the fact that I still don't know if all of that is enough for me. It's not like either one of us is trying to make this hard. But don't you feel better having said something?"

"Not really, to be honest. It doesn't change anything, does it?"

"I guess not. But it's good to know we're still on the same page, even if it's not a nice one, no?"

"So you're just as frustrated as I am?" Emily asked, trying to mask her hopefulness. She felt guilty wishing misery upon Hotch, but she couldn't pretend to wish he had been enjoying the last two months.

"Probably even more so. I still wish we could have what we had again, but I still don't know if I can trust myself. I know the reiteration might seem pointless but I think it's good. It's not like we're fighting."

"Just talking," Emily agreed in a soft, resigned sort of voice. "I suppose it's healthy." She wrapped her arms around her knees and folded herself up.

"What has your therapist had to say about it?"

"Nothing terribly helpful, which annoys me. I still go in every week, though, thinking maybe something will click, and I'll know I'm ready, and that feeling will be more permanent than it was last time, but that hasn't happened. And that's only my half of things. I mean, if you don't know now about whether you can have a chaste relationship, are you ever going to? How much of your part of this is going to be just thinking about it, and how much of it involves doing something? Is there anything you _can_ do? Or is this just going to be an endless waiting game? I'm not trying to pressure you for an answer right now, or even soon, but I just want to know if you have a strategy, or if you're just kind of waiting for a sign like I am."

"My only strategy has been wondering nonstop. And it's obviously getting me nowhere, but I don't know what else to do."

"This is beyond frustrating. I know I've said it before. I'm sorry. I'm one big broken record."

"What about…what I suggested last month? What if I go with you to a session? Maybe it doesn't have to be a normal session where you talk about the details if you still don't want me to know. Maybe your therapist might have some insight for my side of things, though, or us as a whole. I'm sure she's dealt with families and friends before. Sure, this is a little different, but she's probably seen it all." He paused for Emily to object, but she didn't. "It won't have to be about your trauma, like I said. Just a non-partial third party's perspective. What could it hurt?"

The thought of Hotch coming along to one of her sessions had crossed her mind many times since he had mentioned it. Though she still felt that someday, he'd get the whole story out of her, it still didn't feel like the right time. However, when he phrased it in terms of it being more like couples counseling than her one-on-one therapy, it didn't sound as daunting. She hated to admit it, and she wouldn't, but it was actually a good idea. "Let me call my therapist in the morning and see. I don't think she'll have a problem with it, but if we're going to do this, then I at least want to give her time to think of some sort of plan instead of throwing it at her. I don't want it to be a waste of time."

"Of course." Hotch stood upright. "Are we okay?" he asked, putting his hand around the doorknob.

"We're fine."

"I didn't push too much?"

"Goodnight, Aaron," she said with a light smile. He returned the smile and let himself out.

Jack came in an hour later and roused Emily from a sleep she'd found with surprising ease. "Mommy," he whispered.

"Hmm?"

"I'm itchy."

"Go get your dad. It's his turn to do your lotion." She reached out blindly for Jack's head, found it after a few tries, and smoothed her hand through his hair.

"But I want you." He climbed over her, kneeing her in the calf as he did.

"I thought you wanted lotion."

"I'm not itchy anymore. Can I stay?"

Emily didn't feel like waking up any further to fight him as he found his way under the covers. "Sure, but go to sleep." She turned toward the middle of the bed and opened her arms for him.

"I love you, Mommy," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

"Are you gonna get the chickenpox, too?"

"I already had them, right around your age. I can't get them again. Now shh, I'm sleepy."

"We should go sleep in Daddy's bed. He's got lots more room."

"One more word out of you and it's back to your own bed. Do you hear me?" She heard not a peep more.

**A/N: Please (pretty please) take a moment of your time to leave some feedback. It's very much appreciated. Thank you!**


	85. Sexual Healing

Three weeks after Jack had fallen ill, Hotch and Emily finally sat in a waiting room painted in warm tones, somewhere Emily had been many times before, though not in the last few weeks. With a considerable amount of help from Jessica, they had all made it through in one piece. Henry was sick starting a week after Jack, and two sick boys had meant a few weeks of sleep deprivation for everyone involved, save for Charlotte, who hadn't seemed to come down with anything at all. Hotch and Emily were still trying to get the household back into its usual flow, and both of them being away from home after work tonight wasn't helping. Jessica had, again, happily stepped up to the plate, not demanding that Hotch give her details on why they needed a sitter when he had told her it was personal but promised jokingly that they weren't off to a sonogram appointment.

"Is it wrong that I wish I could be home and in bed right now?" Emily asked, thumbing lazily through a magazine while she and Hotch waited.

"Hey, we've put this off three times already."

Emily glanced at Hotch and offered him an apologetic smile. "I know. But we had to put the kids before us."

"Of course we did. But they're fine now. I want to make the most of this hour we have."

"It's actually only fifty minutes, and you'd be surprised by how little you can actually accomplish in that amount of time. Sometimes I walk out of here feeling like I was just getting warmed up but I got cut short."

"All right, I won't ramble. Noted."

"And like I said, be prepared for really uncomfortable questions. She's a fan of them."

"Yet you like her?" Hotch murmured so softly that Emily could barely hear him. He was clearly trying not to attract the attention of the receptionist, who tapped away at a keyboard nearby.

"Yeah. I mean, maybe it's all relative, but she _is_ the only therapist who helped stop my flashbacks. Even if…this stuff…isn't going quite as well, I guess that's not really something that's within her area of expertise anyway. I think she's done what she can with me, and my last few sessions have just been me going on and on about wanting to be ready, and her telling me I'll never be completely ready and to stop putting so much pressure on myself. I'm making her sound like a bad therapist, but really, she's not. She's a miracle worker. Maybe we'll get lucky. Well, you know what I mean."

Hotch didn't catch Emily's slip-up. He was too busy thinking that a miracle was just what they needed. Before long, a skittish, petite woman with a death grip on her purse walked through the thick wooden door that led into the only room off the waiting room. He saw Emily smile in a familiar sort of way at this other patient, who grinned back sheepishly before clutching her purse even more tightly and striding toward the door that led to the hallway.

A blonde, blue-eyed woman about Emily's height poked her head out the door. "Emily, come in. Sorry I'm running a little bit behind. I won't cut you short, I promise." She ignored Hotch for the time being; he assumed it would be Emily's job to formally introduce him.

Once the door was shut, Emily and Hotch took adjacent seats across from Emily's therapist. "This is Aaron. Aaron, Dr. McMahon," Emily said.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dr. McMahon." Hotch leaned over to shake hands, then sat back in his seat and folded his hands between his knees.

"Please, call me Paula. And the pleasure's all mine. I've heard a lot about you."

"I know better than to joke about it being only good things," Hotch deadpanned.

Dr. McMahon smiled faintly and aimed her gaze at Emily now. "So, you said over the phone a few weeks ago that you wanted to bring Aaron to a session so you could get my take on some relationship questions?"

"Exactly. I hope that's not too much trouble."

"Well, I do deal with the family and friends of survivors, to help them learn how to support their loved ones, to help them understand the nature of their disorder and how they can help. This is admittedly a little different, but I'd be happy to offer up any advice I might have. Keep in mind, though, that I might not have much to say. We're leaving the arena of our usual psychotherapy and venturing into something more akin to couples therapy, which isn't my specialty. But don't let that discourage you," she said, glancing at Hotch, too. "I know you've come in many times, Emily, and talked through almost the entire session without letting me get a word in edgewise, and once in a while, days like that turn out to be surprisingly helpful. So, enough out of me. Let's start. What kept you away this month? Is everything all right?"

"The boys had the chickenpox. They finally got over it completely just last week." Casting a glance at Hotch for a moment, Emily said, "We couldn't bear to be away from them any more than we had to."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Any developments with your own health?"

"No, I've been fine. Just trying to make it through the last few weeks alive."

Hotch felt like he was eavesdropping. He needed a way into the conversation.

"Looks like you did just fine. Do you have Thanksgiving plans? You probably don't need a reminder, but those kinds of times can be stressful. You might want to prepare yourself."

"Nothing crazy," Emily said. "We have friends and family coming over, but everyone seems to be getting along now, so hopefully it will be low key."

"All right. Well, let's get to business. I'd like you both to tell me what you'd like to get out of this session. Emily, why don't you start?"

Emily sneaked another peek at Hotch out of the corner of her eye and wet her lips. "Well, Aaron and I have a mutual desire to be in a romantic and maybe physically intimate relationship, but I don't feel like I can tell whether I'm really ready for the possibility of intimacy, and Aaron's not sure if he can go without, so—not to speak for you, sorry." Emily touched Hotch on the arm reflexively and put her hands back in her lap.

"No, it's okay," Hotch said, looking from Emily to Dr. McMahon. "She's right. I don't know whether I can go without sex, not after what happened in the, uh…you do know everything about us, I assume?"

"Emily does tell me quite a bit."

"Including that," Emily added, feeling herself go slightly pink.

Hotch's face heated up, too, when he wondered just how detailed Emily's recollection of their multiple encounters had been. He had always figured that Emily's therapists were privy to that sort of information, but right now, talking face-to-face with a stranger who probably knew exactly everything he'd said and done that night, he itched all over. "Well, then, after that night at the hotel, I'm just not sure if I'd really be fully satisfied without the sexual component of a relationship. And my goal—Emily's goal, as well, as we've discussed this—is to walk way tonight hopefully with a better understanding of what it is we've got going on here. Because we both kind of feel like we've been at a standstill for a couple of months."

"What has that been like?"

Hotch allowed Emily room to speak this time. "The last few weeks haven't been quite as terrible just because the boys were distracting, but overall, it's really heartbreaking to know that there's a possibility to be with someone I've cared about for a long time, but that the fact that we _want_ to be together—_fully_ together—is what's keeping this from happening." Emily had never put exactly these thoughts into words either to her therapist or to Hotch, and the delivery of her little speech had her teary-eyed and wishing Hotch would reach into her lap and lock fingers with her, calm her. "It just doesn't make sense to me. Normally, what keeps you from being with someone is maybe another person, or a lack of desire, or too much physical distance, but we don't face any of those obstacles."

"So what exactly have your interactions been like at home?"

"They're still like they were the last time I came in, but I guess maybe a little warmer," Emily replied. "Like I said, we agreed that if I wasn't sure if I could have sex and _he _wasn't sure if he _couldn't_, that it was best if we just…kept our hands to ourselves. No more late nights on the couch together, no more touching, back rubs, anything like that. Not until we can figure out our issues."

"How has that been working out?" Dr. McMahon asked Hotch directly, sensing his desire not to sit in a room and listen to Emily talk about him as if he weren't there.

"Well, it's working out in that we've stuck to it, and we haven't ended up in another situation like the one a couple of months ago," Hotch said. "But…It does feel like it's pulling us apart more than we'd intended. And we still haven't come to a conclusion about whether what we're doing is right."

"Emily and I have discussed this many times, and maybe she's shared my thoughts with you, Aaron, but only you two can know if what you're doing is right."

"May I ask something?" Hotch said.

"Of course."

Hotch paused and after brief deliberation, decided Emily should be allowed to ask about herself if she chose, but he wanted advice pertaining to his own struggles. "Ever since Emily's flashbacks started back up, I've told myself that I'd be willing to be in a relationship without sex. The fact that we have feelings for each other has been out in the open between us for a long time, and I even told _her_ that I'd be perfectly happy in a chaste relationship. And I want that. I truly do want that to be enough for me. And I think it would be enough for me, but I'm not one hundred percent sure, because I do still think less than innocent thoughts, and I don't want a repeat of that night at the hotel, where I might let things get too far and get frustrated when we have to stop."

"You know I don't blame you for that, right?" Emily said, not even looking at Hotch. "We've talked about this."

"That doesn't mean I can promise I wouldn't react that way again."

"I think you need to give yourself a little more credit," Emily replied. "You were caught off guard."

Dr. McMahon waited until it seemed like Emily and Hotch were finished. "What was your question for me, Aaron?"

Hotch sensed Emily shift in her seat. "What's your opinion on whether a man can remain satisfied in a committed relationship that may never amount to anything sexual?" he asked.

"That depends. But I will make one thing very clear. You—_both_ of you—were designed with sex drives," Dr. McMahon said with a resigned shrug. "Whether you like it or not, and whether or not circumstances allow for it, most people do want sex, and most of them will at some point or another fantasize about being with someone they're not actually with. It's natural."

"Even for me?" Emily chimed in. "Because I'd certainly feel a little better about moving forward if I didn't have urges, because that would keep things from escalating to a point I don't want to reach. We wouldn't have to come to that point where Aaron has to worry about lashing out and feeling guilty for it."

"Every survivor is different, Emily. You know that. Don't ever forget that. Instead of being angry that you still have sexual urges, I think you should be glad. Maybe those urges are hard to understand right now, but the fact that your trauma didn't completely rob you of them is a good sign."

"What good are sexual urges if I go for what I want, and I get there, and suddenly I no longer want it? That's not fair to Aaron." Emily could hear little over the thudding of her own heart and found it astounding that Hotch seemingly couldn't hear.

"Last time, I think you bit off more than you could chew. You went for too much, too quickly. But that doesn't mean you're forever doomed. If you really want to move forward into a relationship, you both would need to exercise more self-discipline."

"So you think a relationship is a good idea?" Emily asked.

Dr. McMahon smiled almost chidingly. "You know I can't answer that. I can tell you this much, though. If it's paining you both so much to, as you put it, keep your hands to yourselves, then you may want to consider letting yourselves do what comes naturally, to a certain extent. If you feel the urge to hug and kiss the other on the cheek when you get home from work—things like that—and you find yourself wanting that every day but feeling down because you feel like it's against the rules, then you're putting a lot of pressure on yourself by refraining, and you're creating tension that's obviously distressed you both to the point where you felt you needed help. Agree on boundaries and stick to them unless and until you're ready to move forward, and discuss things before you do move forward. I know it doesn't sound as romantic, but it's especially difficult to have a successful relationship when PTSD is involved if you don't communicate verbally and straightforwardly. On the bright side, you're both clearly dedicated to each other enough to want to bring in an impartial third party for advice. I think that dedication will help you stay clear-headed enough to avoid making the same mistakes again."

"So we should end the moratorium?" Emily asked. Hotch almost smiled at the clear hopefulness in her voice.

"Again, I'll never tell you what you should and shouldn't do with another person. I can tell you what you should do when it comes to avoiding flashbacks or stopping them, but relationships are different. This is truly a decision you need to make together. I can tell you how I see things, and I've done that, but that's as far as I'll go. Like I said, I'm not a couples therapist. I've taken you as far as I confidently can."

"This sounds nice and all," Hotch said, Emily's heart sinking like a rock at the tone of his voice, "but what are the odds that I can quell my urges? Keep in mind that I haven't slept with anyone in about four years, and I haven't so much as kissed anyone besides Emily since then. I think the amount of time I've been celibate might speak in favor of me being able to go without, but I'm not sure. You said a man's ability to control himself depends on a lot of things. Would those be some?"

"Most definitely. But I want to clarify with you shouldn't be ashamed of the fact that you want to be with Emily in that way. And Emily, the fact that Aaron desires you in a sexual way should feel good for you, too. He's proven himself to be understanding, save for something he said in the heat of the moment. He's not a man you met in a bar who wants to take you home. He's your best friend. Like I said, we're wired to want sex. And wanting that intimacy with someone we care about is completely healthy. That being said, it does speak worlds about you, Aaron, that you want to make sure you're in control of that desire. Just don't beat yourself up over it. Since it's making you concerned, what you may want to do is think of what makes Emily attractive to you and why you care about her. Are those reasons mainly physical in nature or not? Maybe you should list them."

Hotch had thought the conversation had reached its most awkward point before this question. He was sure Emily was equally miserable, not wanting—in front of someone else, anyway—to hear Hotch rattle off a list of things about her that he found appealing.

"List them?" Hotch asked.

Dr. McMahon gave him a small, comforting smile. "I know it sounds uncomfortable, but I think it will help. If you're scared that your thoughts and urges are too sexual to control, it might help to tease apart what's attractive about her. So, let's say a good friend of yours asks you why you want to be with Emily. What would you say?"

Emily tried not to let her eyes roll into the back of her head, or even worse, cover them up with her hands and groan. The level of anxiety in the air right now was nothing compared to some of her solo sessions, but this seemed to be mortifying in its own special hell-like way.

"Okay." He remained silent for a few solid minutes while he thought. "She's my best friend," he finally said. "Why wouldn't I want to be with her?" Little did he know, Emily sat next to him holding back tears.

"And why do you consider her your best friend?"

"Well, we understand each other—most of the time, anyway—and she's always there for me." Hotch paused to see if his answer was satisfactory, but no one responded. Dr. McMahon watched him with keen eyes, and he could hear Emily's soft breathing next to him. "She's smart," he continued, "funny, kind, generous, she keeps me on my toes…"

"That's a good number of qualities that have nothing to do with her sexuality," Dr. McMahon pointed out. "Now instead of telling me why you consider her your best friend, why don't you tell me now why, specifically, you want that friendship to become more?"

"I'm sorry, but is this really necessary?" Emily cut in.

"It's fine," Hotch said. "Why do I want a relationship?" He closed his eyes briefly after repeating Dr McMahon's question. "I suppose because I don't want to constantly have to remind myself that I can't touch her, or tell her that I care, because it wouldn't be appropriate. I want it to be appropriate. What we have is great, don't get me wrong. But it feels limited. I can't do or say everything I want to. There's a lot that a relationship can provide over a friendship, even without sex."

"Would you agree with that, Emily?"

Emily heard her name off in the distance; her sense of sight seemed to be overshadowing all the others. During the course of Hotch's monologue, she'd let her eyes wander from her feet to his face; she now studied his profile intently, as if committing it to memory to sketch it later. He was speaking to Dr. McMahon the entire time, so he didn't see until now, when he turned to Emily, that she was staring right at him with a haze over her eyes.

"Emily?" Dr. McMahon repeated.

Eye contact was maintained for only a second between Hotch and Emily before the latter snapped out of her stupor. "Sorry, come again?"

"Would you agree with what Aaron said? Do you think there's something that even a chaste relationship can provide that a friendship can't?"

"Of course. Otherwise I wouldn't be looking for a way to move forward. Not when I'm not sure I can have sex." Emily sighed deeply and tucked her hair behind one ear. "And I knew for sure that I could, then this really wouldn't be a problem."

"As I've said before, there's never going to be a permanently ready state, or even an obviously ready state. Even if you do end up being able to have sex again, it doesn't mean you'll be ready for every encounter. Unfortunately, PTSD is something you'll have traces of for the rest of your life. The best you can do is remember how to cope, and to make sure that, if you're with somebody, it's somebody who understands that you can't help freezing or having flashbacks."

Emily had learned time and time again during her sessions that some things seemed much more cogent when spoken aloud, but she didn't think it could be more obvious that Hotch understood her perfectly well. He was here, after all. He had kept her free of flashbacks for two years straight, and had been there for her every step of the way since her symptoms had returned. If Hotch wasn't the epitome of understanding, Emily didn't know who was. She nodded in some sort of submission to Dr. McMahon, who opened up a leather portfolio on her desk and took out a business card. She didn't hand it over just yet, though.

"Do you feel better about this, Emily? Has it helped steer you in a certain direction?" Dr. McMahon asked.

"Actually," Emily said, "believe it or not, yes. It has. I feel like the hands-off policy is only causing tension and heartache and it's not really decreasing our desire. So I don't see the point in it, but I guess that's up to Aaron, too. As for a relationship, I think that the ball's in his court now."

"Why don't you tell him instead of me?"

Emily maintained a steady gaze with Hotch for the first time during the session. "If and when you decide you have enough faith in yourself—for the record, I do think you're selling yourself short and just made a mistake that night, and you're normally much more disciplined and understanding than that—then I'm ready." Her mouth was parched when she uttered her last few words, so she poured herself a glass of water from a pitcher next to her.

—

Their fifty minutes had come to a close unexpectedly, leaving their conversation open-ended. Hotch and Emily stood side-by-side at a bank of several elevators, waiting for one to take them downstairs. Emily opened up her purse to put away a business card for a couples therapist. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, looking up at Hotch.

"For what?"

"That was uncomfortable. More uncomfortable than even I'd expected. I didn't think that she'd be so straightforward, for some reason."

"Straightforward's a bit of an understatement, don't you think?" Hotch said flatly, though with a twist of his lips.

"Do you understand now why I come home some Tuesday nights with a pint of ice cream and won't share?"

Hotch chuckled shortly just as their elevator dinged its arrival. Once the door clunked shut, leaving the two of them alone, Hotch placed a hand on the small of Emily's back, knowing full well what it did to her, because it did the same to him. "I know we didn't get to finish talking earlier, but I think you're right about, you know, taking the long way around the kitchen, or not sitting too close together, that kind of thing. It hasn't gotten any easier, like you said. And there's really no purpose."

"So you think we should give up that fight?"

Hotch answered with a hug that made them both thankful that they were on the fifteenth floor of a building with ancient elevators. Emily slinked her arms up over Hotch's shoulders and wrapped them around his neck. She purposely sought out his five o'clock shadow with her nose, letting the scratchiness and the lingering cologne revive her. "What about the rest?" she asked.

After all the unease, all the difficult questions, all the raw emotions floating through the air around them, Hotch had hoped a clearer answer would have come to him. "I still don't know. I think I'm getting there, but I just need more certainty. Okay?"

Emily didn't think she had a right to be disappointed, not when Hotch had let a stranger perform open heart surgery on him all for the sake of trying to do right by her and go about things more carefully than they had in the past. He'd done everything in his power so far, so if he still didn't know, then she couldn't imagine faulting him for that. "All right," she said, loosening her hold on him eventually and warming at the feeling of his hand finding hers, burying it within his own. They never had gotten around to clarifying which behaviors fell under which umbrella—friendly or romantic—but she supposed now that trying to categorize the way he held her hand, and the residual warmth that flowed freely through her even when he eventually let go, would be silly. Every single thing they were going to allow themselves to do again was far beyond friendly.

Their silent revelations came to an end when they walked through the door and were practically mauled by Jack and Henry. Emily and Hotch both found it much easier to wear smiles around each other that night, something that they both hoped Jack would notice, so he would stop pestering them with his matchmaking hobby.

Ever since they had agreed to let themselves indulge in relatively innocent physical contact again, Emily had longed to curl up on the couch with Hotch once the children were tucked away, but Charlotte had other plans for the evening. She had been fussy ever since their return home, which didn't rattle either one of them, as the family's routine had suffered greatly from the boys being sick. But her irritability escalated to the point of shrill screaming they had never heard before. All that seemed to be wrong was a low-grade fever, which they'd tried to ward off with some ibuprofen. Nothing they could think to try would console her, though. It was on Emily's second attempt at checking for a diaper rash and changing the baby into a different pair of pajamas that she thought she might have found the problem. She called Hotch, who'd sought respite from the crying in the basement, switching over some laundry.

His breathing was somewhat labored when he answered her summons, as if he had done so at a run. "What is it?"

Emily pointed to a wide rash on Charlotte's chest. "Any idea why she might have a rash there? That's not what the boys' rashes looked like."

"No, it's not. Did you check her temperature again?"

"Yeah, it's up a little, but still not something I'd be worried about if it were just the temperature."

"Well, add the rash," Hotch said.

"Think we should take her in?" Emily said, sighing and refastening Charlotte's pajamas.

"It's probably nothing, but just to be on the safe side. It could just be her own variation of the chickenpox but I'd rather not wait to find out."

As much as it pained her, Emily handed Charlotte to Hotch. "You take her. They'll probably roll their eyes if they see a woman with a crying baby, because they get paranoid moms all the time. They might pay more attention to a dad. And even if you can't calm her all the way down, she does a little bit better with you."

"Emily—"

"It's true. And it's okay. She's a daddy's girl. Just like Henry's a mama's boy."

"And Jack," Hotch pointed out as they headed downstairs to prepare for a late night visit to the emergency room.

"Eh, Jack's pretty evenly split. He loves according to convenience."

Emily was only using humor as a mask for her fear, which Hotch easily picked up on. "I'm sure she's just fine, you know."

Emily nodded and went in for a quick hug from Hotch, in which she felt guilty reveling, and to kiss the shrieking baby on the forehead. "Keep me posted."

**A/N: Please leave a review! :)**


	86. Epiphany

**A/N: A HUGE thank you to my friend nyte_nurse. She was my medical consultant when the internet failed me. I actually planned this chapter out a couple of months ago, so hopefully the details are realistic. Thanks, Georgina!**

"Your mom's going to kill me, Charlie," Hotch muttered as he sat down with a clipboard in the waiting room of the ER. "I forgot my phone on the counter."

Charlotte didn't care. She just wailed away, breaking Hotch's heart because he couldn't do a thing about it. The best he could do was hold her instead of setting her down in her car seat. He crossed one foot over his other knee and balanced a clipboard while he filled out her information. "Louise is a pretty old-fashioned middle name, you know. It was your mom's, too. Hey, look at that, you're almost eleven months old. Think you'll walk soon?" He finished the paperwork and brought it back up to the desk, then went to sit back down with Charlotte. Her screaming got louder when he sat again, so he got up and walked up and down the rows of chairs, bouncing her softly as he went. "You know, we didn't try the obvious. Are you hungry?" He dug a package of animal crackers out of her diaper bag and dangled them in front of her face. She shook her head violently and hit him in the face. "Guess that's a no. Thirsty?" He dug out a sippy cup, too, but she reacted just the same. He walked her around for two miserable hours filled with stares (some pitiful, some contemptuous) before they were called up.

—

Emily tried her best to distract herself with some mindless television while Hotch was out. When an hour passed by and he hadn't called back to report anything, she felt too antsy not to call. When his phone rang on the counter, her stomach lurched. She hoped he had the decency to use a payphone or someone else's phone to call home with news eventually. Meanwhile, she made a mental list of ways to kill him while she continued to flip channels.

—

"The rash could be any number of things."

"Like what?" Hotch asked, his arms crossed as he watched a male doctor who looked like he was barely out of medical school inspect the naked and very unpleased baby from top to bottom, finding another rash on her back.

"I'll get a CBC."

"What's a CBC? And what could it be?" Hotch's patience was running low to begin with from his wait; he had none left for his questions being ignored.

"A CBC is a complete blood count. Mainly I'm interested in her white blood cell count. It should indicate whether she's fighting some sort of infection."

"What kind of infection?"

"The rash looks like meningitis. The fever and the fact that you can't console her don't look well either. Babies are wired to cry when something's wrong. Sometimes nothing's really wrong, but I don't like the look of the rash."

Hotch had stopped listening at "meningitis." "Isn't that…people die from meningitis, don't they?"

"Bacterial meningitis can be very dangerous and can be fatal in some cases, yes. Viral meningitis usually goes away on its own, though, and it's not too uncommon. It's actually so much like a cold or flu that it usually goes undiagnosed. I'll have someone come get a blood sample and we'll run some tests, and I'd also like to do a spinal tap. That would be the definitive answer. Those results wouldn't be back until tomorrow, as well as some other blood work I'd like to run, so she'll need to stay here overnight. We'll start her up on some antibiotics, which will help if it's bacterial. Here, you can hold her."

"Thank you." The screaming abated only because it had elevated when Charlotte was taken away from Hotch and stripped down in the cold room by a stranger. The doctor handed him a blanket before leaving and he wrapped the baby up snugly, rubbing his hands firmly up and down her back. The news that Charlotte could have a potentially fatal infection had the room spinning around him the more he thought about it, so he sat down and did his best to comfort her.

The nurse that came in to lead Hotch to a patient room was a bit friendlier. "Don't let them scare you. It's very unlikely that it's bacterial," she murmured as they walked down the hallway. "The antibiotics and spinal tap are just in case. And neither one should hurt her."

"Can I stay with her overnight?"

"That depends on her white blood cells and how you're feeling. Any illnesses in the household lately?"

"Her two brothers just got over the chickenpox last week."

"Uh-oh. There's a chance it could just be that. I'll run that by the doctor. If her white blood cell count is low, though, we can't let you stay with her. We should get that blood work back in a few minutes. The doctor rushed the results."

"You're serious? I can't stay?"

"Not until we know you're immune. If you really want to, we can run a simple test on you to figure that out, but you won't know until tomorrow about that either."

"I _am_ immune. I had them when I as a kid. I'll be kicked out of my house if I come home alone."

"Contrary to popular belief, the fact that you've already had the chickenpox doesn't mean you're immune. I'm sorry. We'd have to run tests, like I said." She reached her arms out for Charlotte. "Just until we find out about her white blood cell count. If it's normal, you can have her back and stay with her as long as you like."

—

"Can't you page him or something? I told you, I would call him myself, but he left his phone at home." Just as Emily was about to ask to speak to a terrified (and probably new) orderly's supervisor, the front door opened. "Never mind. Thank you." _For nothing_, she added in her mind, tossing the phone on the couch and practically jogging to the front door to see Hotch kicking off his shoes and removing his jacket. "Where's Charlotte?" she breathed when she saw that he was positively alone.

"They're keeping her overnight for testing and some preventative treatment until they find out exactly what she has."

"Why the hell aren't you there with her? She can't be alone."

"Her white blood cell count is low. I told them about the chickenpox in the house and they said I can't be around her until I know if I'm immune and won't pass it on, even though I told them I've already had it. They took some blood from me and they'll know in the morning. Come on, let's sit down."

"What are they testing for?"

Hotch sighed and contemplated lying. It had been hard enough for him to keep it together when the doctor had explained the possibilities to him. Emily wouldn't fare any better. But she sat next to him and looked him the eye with such need that he couldn't hide the truth from her. He took her hand before telling her everything he knew. "But she already seemed to be a little calmer when I left," he added. That fib he had to tack on when Emily bent in half and grasped the roots of her hair with her free hand. "It's very unlikely that it's bacterial. They're just being precautious. And even if it is bacterial, it seems like they caught it early. She just got the symptoms tonight. We need to be optimistic."

"You couldn't even stay in the hospital?"

"I could, just not with her. The hospital's only five minutes away. I figured you'd be worried and want some company. I'm of more help here than I am there. They have my phone number—"

"Would you please go get your phone off the counter and make sure the ringer's on and make sure you keep it with you?"

Hotch got up without a word and did as he was asked. "Only five missed calls?" he asked as he took his seat next to her.

"Sleep with your eyes open."

"I'm sorry," he said, chuckling. "I'll never forget my phone again."

"You'd better not." Emily leaned into Hotch's side when he opened up his arm. The warmth produced by his hand running comfortingly up and down her arm lulled her a little.

"She's going to be just fine."

"Can you promise me that?" Emily asked.

"You know I can't."

"Then please let me worry. I know it's not going to make things any better, but I can't help it."

"I'm worried too, but you just have to tell yourself you're wrong. The more you say it, the easier it'll be to believe. Have a little faith."

"You do that, and I'll worry."

Hotch sighed in mild exasperation and leaned back, drawing Emily in closer. "Want to watch some TV?"

"Whatever you want."

"What do _you_ want?"

"Besides for Charlotte to be home and healthy?"

"Obviously." Hotch rested his chin in Emily's hair.

"Macaroni and cheese."

"Macaroni and cheese?"

"Or a cigarette."

"It's pretty cold out. How about we eat, then see how you feel about a smoke?" Hotch suggested.

"Can this all be done without moving?"

"I'm pretty comfortable myself…"

Emily got up silently and went into the kitchen. She got out the food she craved and started to prepare it. "Was she really feeling calmer when you left?" she asked as she leaned against the counter to waited a pot of water to boil. "Or did you just say that?"

Hotch sighed and took away the plastic spoon that Emily had taken out. She surrendered it rather readily, hooking her arms around his shoulders from underneath when he moved in to hold her. "She did seem calmer. I promise. Okay?" Emily nodded only shortly before she let out the silent tears that they were both surprised hadn't come already.

"I want to see her," Emily said once her tears had relented, leaving her feeling silly for latching onto Hotch like she did.

"Then they'll make you get tested, too, since you've been around the boys. And you know it's for her own good."

"I need to go in," Emily said, decisively now, running her fingers under her eyes and sniffling. "At least one of us needs to be able to go in and see her as soon as possible. What if your results come back and it turns out you can't be in there with her? One of us needs to get in. All our friends and your family helped out when the boys were sick, so none of them can go keep her company any more easily than we can."

"All right. She's in the high-dependency unit so they can keep a closer eye on her. You'll probably have to be pushy about getting the blood test, just warning you. You're not an actual patient. They were kind of peeved that I actually wanted the test. I don't think they thought I would take the offer. So you might have to nag them."

"Aaron, you know me. Do you really doubt my abilities to annoy someone to the point of doing absolutely anything to get me out of a building?"

Hotch smirked and turned the stove burner off before following Emily to the front door. "Do you have your phone?"

Emily patted her pocket and nodded. "I keep mine on me, unlike someone else."

"Never going to live that down, am I?"

"I think I made an orderly cry over the phone because she wouldn't page you." Emily fastened the toggles on her pea coat and stepped up to Hotch for a brief hug and to kiss him on the cheek, unable to identify her motive.

"Don't start the hospital on fire. Let me know when you're on your way back. Or do you think you'll stay?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know. I'll see. I'll let you know."

—

Emily returned over an hour later looking more distressed than ever. She had warned Hotch of her return with a text message, though, and he'd used those five minutes to start up the boxed macaroni she'd never made for herself.

"Well?" he asked.

"I really miss bossing people around with a badge. Doing it the normal way is so much more work," she said, dropping her purse with a thud onto the counter and dropping her keys into it. "They took my blood, but something tells me it's going to be a lot longer than twelve hours before they tell me anything. This stupid—" She stopped and grunted instead of using a choice expletive. "—male nurse Doogie Howser-aged _moron _tried to talk me down and tell me it was no big deal. They wouldn't let me anywhere near her room. I just at least wanted to see the door, you know? Just to have a picture in my head of where she was. But they said I'd have to wait elsewhere, and that if I bothered anyone else, I'd be escorted out by security. Who the hell gets kicked out of a hospital?"

"You look like you're about to explode."

"Keen observation," Emily said in a flat tone. "There's no way I'm sleeping tonight. You?"

"Well, I was going to try. But I can sit up with you."

"No, it's okay," Emily said, leaning back against the counter. "Are you cooking that macaroni after all?"

"You sounded like you really wanted it."

Emily almost cried; watching Hotch calmly cook her a meal full of empty calories in the middle of the night while she lost her mind, and while he obviously wanted to be in bed, reminded her not necessarily of how much she wanted what she didn't have, but of how lucky she was that she had him in any capacity.

"Thank you," she hummed against his chest when she held onto him for the umpteenth time.

Hotch gave the almost-cooked pasta a stir and set the spoon down. "No problem. Feeling a little less worried?"

"No, just better at hiding it."

Hotch didn't know how long he'd gone without noticing it, but holding Emily this way, hearing her talk into his sweatshirt, swaying to and fro minutely with her, felt pure. At this moment, his feelings were innocent—still romantic, loving, caring, but not sexual. When he thought about it, he knew the physical urges were still there, but he felt as if he had the sudden gift of ignoring them on command. Right now, his first priority was to keep her sane.

"What about you?" Emily asked, still flat against Hotch, rubbing lazy lines up and down his back, feeling like it warmed her just as much as it might be warming him.

"I have faith that she's going to be just fine."

"How do you do you manage that?"

"I don't know," Hotch said. He truthfully had no idea. When he'd told Emily an hour ago that he was sure Charlotte would be fine, he hadn't really meant it. However, now, an inner peace spread throughout him. He felt as if it were a gift meant to be passed on. "Hey. Want to hear some good news?" he asked, suddenly remembering one bright spot in his evening.

"I would _love_ to hear good news. How good is it?"

"It'd say it's pretty good." Out of the blue, Emily let Hotch go and got to finishing up their late night indulgence.

"All right, let's hear it," Emily said, taking a jug of milk from Hotch when he took it out of the fridge.

"I was waiting in one of those little side rooms to get my blood drawn, and no one was around. They had one of those automatic blood pressure meters, so I put it on. Guess my blood pressure."

"Hmm," Emily hummed as she dumped the pasta into a strainer in the sink. "One-thirty-five over ninety?" she guessed, putting the pasta back in the pot and adding a splash of milk, some butter, and the neon orange cheese powder.

"Even better."

"One-thirty over eighty-five?"

"Try one-twenty over eighty."

Emily's eyes were wide when she stopped what she was doing and turned around. "One-twenty over eighty is that magical normal number, right? Oh, thank God," she sighed, hugging him yet again without a thought.

"Keep in mind this is with the medication, though."

"Yeah, but you've been running at least a couple mornings a week, still, even when it's too cold and I whine about having to walk to my car. And you've been eating better. Better than me, anyway."

"Maybe we should have yours checked."

"Maybe. I'm proud of you, though. Way to go. And I'm happy I won't have to kill you now."

"At least not for this."

—

Hotch stood by his offer to sit up with Emily, even though, by three in the morning, he was feeling dead on his feet. His ability to stay up late nights on cases with the BAU had slowly dissipated. Emily, however, didn't hold him to his word. "I might as well try and get some sleep," she said once they'd polished off the macaroni and regretted it thoroughly.

"I'm surprised you didn't stay," Hotch remarked as he went to lock up and turn out the lights. He met Emily at the bottom of the stairs.

"Does that make me a bad mom? Not staying? I mean, either way, I'm going crazy. But what if something does happen?"

"If something happens, we're five minutes away. I promise, I'll call in the morning and hound them until they tell me whether I can go in, all right?"

"All right, all right. Do you have your phone?"

"Yes, it's in my pocket."

"Make sure you keep it by your bed, and plug it in."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Sorry, I'm just—"

"I know. It's okay. Goodnight," Hotch said.

"Or good morning. Thank God we're both off for the rest of the week."

"If you consider hosting Thanksgiving dinner being 'off.'…"

"Think we can get away with canceling?" Emily asked. They'd stopped outside her bedroom door. Her question was only partly in jest.

"I wish."

Emily puffed up her cheeks full of air and let it out. "All right, I won't keep you up any longer. Sorry." She couldn't deny herself one more hug, hoping its effects would be lasting enough to bring her rest. "Thank you for coming with me to therapy tonight. Even though I was the one who was hesitant about it. It means a lot."

"Of course. I really think it helped."

"Really?"

"Really." His head resting next to Emily's, Hotch could see her bedroom door cracked, could see the corner of her bed. Even though it had been a dreadful time for Emily—and for himself, watching her suffer—he missed the excuse to climb into her bed and hold her. He'd missed the physical closeness completely ever since their incident in the hotel room two months ago, but now that they had her therapist's blessing to do what felt naturally "to a certain extent," he wondered if they might be in a place again where that sort of behavior was acceptable. Even if they couldn't justify sleeping together, he felt worlds better knowing that they weren't miles away anymore. He reminded himself of what had just happened in the kitchen, when he'd realized his attraction to her was so much more than physical that his sexual desire was overshadowed, but he couldn't make that move right now. He'd demonstrated by accompanying her to her therapy session that he was willing to take his time and do things right this time around. He couldn't toss that dedication out the window a few hours later. Tonight wasn't even about the two of them anyway. Some magnetic force made it difficult to let go of her but he managed to pull himself away. "Goodnight," he repeated.

Emily looked somewhat slighted, but only momentarily. The same realization—that they had agreed to put more thought and care behind building their relationship back up, in addition to the fact that Hotch still hadn't directly communicated that he was ready—showed in her eyes. Baby steps. "Goodnight."

Hotch tossed and turned as he had expected; his telling Emily that he planned on sleeping had been a lie, and his subsequent offer to stay up with her had been genuine, not forced. His alarm clock told him it had been an hour since he'd fallen into bed and, instead of being embraced by slumber, had tried to shake thoughts of Charlotte sick and terrified, and of Emily healthy but equally scared in her own way. He walked down the hall to check on the only one of them what he could. Emily's door was cracked and her room dark, save for a faint glow that twitched just barely.

"You still awake?" he asked quietly, pushing the door in gently with one finger.

"Yeah," she answered just loudly enough for him to hear.

"What're you doing?" he asked, scratching the back of his neck and stepping toward her bed.

"Just looking things up," she answered pitifully. She lay on her side, her finger scrolling through a webpage on her phone.

"Are you reading up on meningitis?"

"I can't help it. What else am I supposed to do?" Her voice betrayed the fact that she'd been crying for quite a while.

Hotch got into Emily's bed, but stayed on top of the covers. "You're not going to help the situation by searching the internet and trying to diagnose her. Let the doctors do that, okay?"

"I'm not diagnosing her. I'm just curious."

"You're just scaring yourself. That's what you're doing." Hotch spooned behind her and ran a hand down her arm, tentatively at first, still not sure if it was allowed. A sigh pushed past her lips, but then she held her breath when she felt Hotch's hand over hers. "Give me the phone."

To his surprise, she did. He set it behind him and wrapped himself around her, confident right now that it didn't have to mean anything more. He was simply taking care of her. "Please try and get some sleep."

"I told you, that's not going to happen."

"You said you'd try."

"I did."

"For what? Fifteen minutes?" Hotch asked mockingly.

"I close my eyes," she said solemnly, turning in Hotch's arms and letting one of her own fall over his side, her nose to his chest, still stuffy, "and all I see is her in one of those plastic cribs or bassinets or whatever they keep them in, and she's crying, because she's stuck up with a bunch of needles and she's sick and she doesn't know anyone. It's just as scary as a flashback."

"Would you feel better if I went to the hospital and waited around?"

"I think I would rather be there than here."

"Then I think you should go there. Just don't ruffle anyone's feathers, all right?"

Emily let out a sad chuckle and rolled out of bed. She didn't bother changing out of her pajamas. She simply took a baggy sweatshirt from a dresser drawer and threw it over her head. Hotch was standing behind her with a paperback novel from her nightstand. "You're going to get bored," he said, handing it to her.

"Thanks." She took the book and walked out of the room. Hotch followed her to the front door, where she was stepping into her shoes and putting her coat back on.

"I think you forgot something," he said with a twinkle in his eye.

"What?" she asked, looking up. "Give me that," she spat, her voice smiling slightly, when Hotch held up her phone.

"Call me if you want to swap, or if you want me to come wait with you. I can have Jessica come by to watch the boys."

"I should be fine." Hotch's arms felt just like home when Emily found her way into them again. "I don't want this to sound pushy or inappropriate for the moment," she said, "but I'm glad we got permission not to treat each other like we had contagious diseases."

Hotch laughed and thought of Emily's therapist, and suddenly it dawned on him. "Remember when I asked why you liked her even though all last month you weren't getting anything out of your sessions, and you said you didn't know?"

"Yeah."

"I think it's because she looks kind of like JJ. Not exactly. But the hair, the eyes…"

_And the not-so-subtle attempts at setting us up,_ Emily thought. "I think you're right," she said with a fond smile. "I've always felt kind of like I've known her from somewhere else. Hindsight's always twenty-twenty, though."

"Still nice to think about."

—

Emily looked like she hadn't slept in three days instead of one when Hotch joined her at the hospital around two the next afternoon. He didn't look any better. He'd managed to get only a couple of hours in before the boys woke up on their own and roused him, wondering where Emily and Charlotte were.. He'd given them a simple explanation and had tried to get them to go back to bed for a while, but they wouldn't let him be. The boys were now at home with Jessica, who got a more detailed briefing.

Hotch's visual assessment of Emily only lasted a moment, though. Charlotte was fast asleep on her shoulder. "Hey," Emily whispered, smiling when she saw him. Hotch pulled a plastic chair up next to Emily's.

"Hey. How's she doing?"

"Good."

They had both already had time to settle down from the high resulting from the news that it was meningitis, but viral and not cause for much concern. This gave Hotch's heart permission to swell as he took in the full sight of Emily, crusty-eyed and her hair stringy, holding Charlotte—a little red in the cheeks but sleeping soundly—against her shoulder. "When can we take her home?"

"Once her antibiotics are done. Can't stop mid-course. So tomorrow night or Friday morning."

"Looks like you got your wish, then," Hotch quipped. "We can cancel Thanksgiving."

"Are you insinuating that I'm glad Charlotte has to stay in the hospital? You'd better not be."

"I was kidding. You know that. Sean says his restaurant's closed for Thanksgiving either way, so he'd still like to come spend the day with us tomorrow. I told him we might need his help with the boys and he seemed even happier to come." The continuous sound of Hotch's voice must have caught Charlotte's attention. She peeled her eyes open and looked groggily around the room.

"What would we do without him and Jessica? We'd better get them some really nice Christmas presents. Maybe a trip to Hawaii."

"If anyone's going to Hawaii, it's us first," Hotch deadpanned.

"In ten years when we can afford it."

"Maybe five. Want some coffee?"

"A whole pot would be great. But I'll go get it," Emily said, sensing Charlotte move in her arms. "She's awake, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Switch?"

"I'm pretty sure she woke up just because you were here, so yes." Emily handed Charlotte over carefully, trying not to dislodge her IV.

"Do you think it's safe to say 'I told you so'?" Hotch asked as Emily got up and searched around her feet for her purse.

"You told me what?"

"That it wasn't bacterial."

"Oh. Yeah, go for it. Your little faith thing worked out. I worried for nothing." She crossed her arms and smiled.

"I'm not knocking the worrying thing," Hotch insisted. "Just saying, sometimes it's better to have faith." The irony of his words was lost on Emily as she waved and walked away, but he rolled his eyes when he realized how contradictorily he was behaving.

"How ya feelin', kid?"

**A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review! ****They've been low lately. Please let me know you're reading! ****:)**


	87. Jump

**A/N: Big thanks to my lovely betas, allthatisevil, SussiRay, and sarramaks. I don't thank them nearly enough!  
**

**Thanksgiving 2011**

Emily expected Hotch to be awake when she got to the hospital with the boys in tow, but then she remembered the time. She'd wished she could have slept in (and let Hotch and the boys sleep in) a little longer, but the day's plans had just changed. She supposed now she could have left the boys at home, but Sean had arrived late in the night and had been sleeping soundly in Hotch's bed when she'd checked in on him.

"Shh," Emily said, turning around to the boys and holding a finger to her lips. "Let your daddy sleep. He's tired."

Hotch apparently had turned into quite the light sleeper—either that, or he hadn't been fully asleep in the first place, which was easy to believe, given how much he'd had to fold his tall frame to fit on the cot the hospital had provided him. "I'm awake," he said, his first words of the morning cracking in his throat.

Emily smiled sanguinely at the sight of the boys going to greet Hotch, who sat up for hugs, then looked down into the metal crib at Charlotte, who was still sleeping deeply. Her semi-private room—no longer in the high-dependency unit as of the night before—had conveniently turned into a private one, as the staff had discharged many patients they normally wouldn't have in the interest of lightening the holiday load and getting children home to their families. Her doctor had rushed some final results as well as the rest of her antibiotics, pushing to get her out sometime in the afternoon instead of late at night.

"Good morning," Hotch said, clearly to Emily, once the boys had calmed down. "Look with your eyes, not your hands, please," he added when Jack started to move an empty IV pole across the room. The boys had gotten to visit already the day before, after being deemed non-contagious, but the medical equipment still fascinated them.

"Hey. How'd you sleep?" Emily asked, setting her things down and taking off her coat.

"This cot might even be small for you," was all he said.

"Well, hopefully we'll have her home sometime today and I won't have to find out."

"Do you want to put dinner back on, then? I was thinking last night—if she can come home this afternoon then we can still have everyone over."

"Well, that's why I came in so early today," Emily said, pulling a chair near Hotch's cot and having a seat in it. "My mother called this morning to tell me she came home from the Ukraine early and was hoping she could see us for Thanksgiving dinner, either at her place if we didn't have plans, or at ours if we were hosting—which, by the way, is really odd of my mother. She never invites herself anywhere. Anyway, I told her what's going on with Charlotte, and that we'd originally canceled, but now we might be able to leave the hospital before dinnertime tonight. So she volunteered to do dinner at her house whenever we can make it, and told us to invite everyone who was going to come to our house to hers instead."

"Your mother's going to cook?"

"Well, her cooks—"

"That's silly. One of us should go over there with Morgan and maybe Dave. They're both good in the kitchen. And Sean, obviously. No reason she should call in her staff last minute on a holiday."

"I'll let her know, then. Do you want to go over and help or would you rather I do it?"

"It's your family," Hotch pointed out.

"Yeah, but you know her, too. Do you want to go? Are you getting stir crazy?"

Hotch yawned like a bear and shook his head. "No, I'm just fine staying here. Go ahead."

Emily grinned. "I thought you might say that." She handed a canvas bag over to Hotch. "Clean clothes, toiletries—don't worry, I didn't sneak through your medicine cabinet too much—and a book…and a movie I rented if you can get the TV in here to work."

"Thanks."

"How does that sound, guys?" Emily asked Jack and Henry. "Want to go to my mom's for Thanksgiving?"

"Your mom's our grandma, right?" Jack asked, walking over to Charlotte's crib to peek through the bars.

"Jack, we talked about that," Hotch started.

"No, it's okay. She's actually all for that. As long as you are."

Hotch arched his eyebrows. "Really? Well, sounds fine to me. Thanksgiving at Grandma's it is," he proclaimed. "Will the boys be okay over there while you're working or would you rather I keep them here with me for the day?"

"They'll die of boredom here. This place is a ghost town. I'll bring them with me. Give me a call when they're ready to discharge her. I'll make sure we have somewhere quiet for her to rest. Did she sleep all right, by the way?"

"Like a rock."

Emily smiled at Hotch again as she stood up and grabbed her belongings, not sure why she'd bothered taking her coat off. As she called the boys to follow her, she watched Hotch scratch his scalp before lying back down, apparently wanting to try for more sleep. She wanted to tell him how sweet it was that he was happy to spend a day in a hospital room with few sources of intelligent conversation when he could be spending it with his friends instead. Though she had previously had her doubts regarding Hotch's dedication to the idea of the five of them as a family, she had never questioned his love for the children individually. Seeing Charlotte develop a happy, at times feisty demeanor as she grew over the months, and seeing Hotch take her under his protective, fatherly wing, as if he'd always wanted a daughter to love, made it difficult for Emily to leave the room with dry eyes.

—

"If only I were single," Garcia said fiercely under her breath as Sean crouched in front of the open oven to baste two turkeys. The ladies had what Garcia considered to be a nice view from across the sterilely white kitchen that was nothing like the rest of the house.

"Please tell me you're kidding," Emily said, nearly snorting.

"He's not my type at all. Don't worry. A girl can look, though."

"Not when her boyfriend's right around the corner. Kevin Lynch, three o'clock," Emily muttered, elbowing Garcia in the side.

"Hi, pumpkin!" Garcia chirped, pausing briefly to greet Kevin with a kiss on the lips, then getting right back to work peeling potatoes.

"Guess what," he said, still carrying cold air around him, as he'd just arrived. He watched as Garcia went on working with Emily, not bothering to guess. "Okay, I'll just tell you. You know that new Asian fusion restaurant that's opening up that you were drooling over? The one no one can get reservations to?" Kevin asked Garcia, slowly walking behind her, then wrapping his arms around her waist. Emily watched furtively, almost guiltily, though strangely, not with envy. She knew that, at least if she and Hotch were alone, Hotch wouldn't feel exactly shy about doing just the same type of thing.

"Yes, my love," Garcia said, "I dream about it every night."

"Well, I called for the fiftieth time today and they had a spot open up next month, two days before Christmas."

Garcia's mouth popped open and she dropped her vegetable peeler into the open garbage can over which she'd been working, then turned in Kevin's arms. "You what?" she almost shrieked.

"_But_, it's a table for four. So we should double up."

"Even better," Garcia said, as if that were completely obvious. "Emily and Hotch will come with us. Right, Em?"

"That's kind of close to Christmas, no?"

"What, are you going to pack up and go to Sean's tiny apartment for Christmas? Yeah, nice try, sweetie. I know you have no travel plans. You're coming. End of discussion."

"It could be like a double date," Kevin said with an awkward grin cast Emily's way. Garcia cleared her throat menacingly. "Oops. Sorry. It can be like a…what exactly would it be like, Penelope?"

"It would be like four friends having a nice evening out with no children. Right, Emily?"

"Right."

—

Hotch was the last one to arrive to the ambassador's home, loaded up with the baby and her necessities. Emily pitied anyone in Garcia's way as she rushed to see Charlotte, who hadn't been in good enough condition to receive possible chickenpox carriers as visitors until last night. Thus, this was the first anyone but her family had seen of her since she'd been admitted. Hotch found his way to the kitchen empty-handed and saw that almost all of the work was done. He took in a mess of dirty pots and pans, which Emily was tackling at the sink.

"I can't even begin to tell you how hungry I am," he mumbled as he approached her from behind.

"Good, we were all just waiting for you," she said cheerily, glancing back at him for just a moment.

"Smells amazing."

"That would be mostly your brother's doing. We were his little kitchen bitches. Whatever the fancy term for that is—oh." Emily let out a quiet, breathy laugh when she felt Hotch's arms snake around her waist and felt his breath right above her ear before he dropped a kiss there. It wasn't until then that she realized how much she'd missed him the night before—their first night not both at home together since all of this had begun, since they had started their strange life together, as long as she didn't count the night that Hotch had checked into his own hotel room. The anxiety from the past couple of days had already mostly found its way out the door once Hotch had called with news of Charlotte's discharge. His touch melted away the very last of it. "I missed you, you know," she couldn't help but say.

"I missed you, too. It was weird not having you down the hall." Apparently he'd felt the same unease.

"Good, you're here," Rossi said from the passage between the kitchen and formal dining room, cuing Hotch to move his hands all too late. "I'd tell you two to get a room, but I'm hungry. Come eat."

"Great," Emily droned when she was sure Rossi had walked away. "Just what we needed."

"Sorry, my fault. So who all's here?"

"Everyone," Emily said offhandedly, drying her hands on a towel and hanging it on a nearby drawer handle before turning to look at Hotch properly. "Jessica, Sean, Garcia, Kevin, Morgan, Morgan's _girlfriend_—I know," she said when she saw Hotch's shocked countenance, "I didn't know he was seeing anyone either. Good for him. Anyway, then Reid and Rossi too, obviously, and then my parents. And the kids. And me. And now you."

"How many does that make?"

"Enough for two turkeys. Let's pry the baby away from Garcia and eat."

—

"What's up?" Emily asked sweetly when Henry climbed into her lap in the Prentiss' richly decorated living room. She was sitting in front of a crackling fire, daydreaming in her favorite childhood chair, one of many her father had dragged into the room for their abundance of guests.

"I'm tired," Henry told her once she hoisted him up.

"You know why? Turkey makes you sleepy."

"I wanna go home," he whined.

"Not quite yet," Emily said, softly sweeping her hand in circles over Henry's back as he burrowed shamelessly into her. "You can take a little nap if you want to, though."

Once Henry quieted down, Emily continued reliving her and Hotch's little moment in the kitchen. The tryptophan was kicking in for her, too, and her eyes began to droop shut despite the volume of about a dozen other people chatting in the same room.

"There she is," a friendly voice said behind her, yanking her out of her turkey-induced torpor.

"Hey, Dad," she said with a smile, kissing him on the cheek when he bent down to do the same to her.

"Haven't had a minute alone with you in I don't know how long."

Emily pouted when George took a seat next to her and rubbed his hands together to warm them. "I know," she said. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have let what was happening between me and Mom come between you and me. And even after we patched things up, I still—life's just been crazy."

"I can see that. Don't worry yourself about it. The baby's all better?"

"She's not a hundred percent yet, but good enough to come home. Thank you for opening up the house to everyone. It was really nice."

"Happy to, sweetheart. Other than sick kids, how's life been treating you?"

Emily smiled, sadly at first, but then, upon realizing she had very little about which to feel down, her smile changed to satisfied. "Pretty well."

"You happy?" George asked, reaching out to cup Emily's shoulder.

"Despite all the craziness, yes. Extremely. I think Thanksgiving was a little less about pigging out this year than it normally is. For me, anyway. I know I shouldn't need a holiday to get me to sit down and count my blessings, but I did, and I think I've got it pretty good."

"I think you're right," George said, patting his daughter on the knee. "Good kids, good job, good…uh, whatever he is…"

"That's what I call him, too," Emily said with a giggle, her heart warming at her father's humor. Next to her mother, he was normally very soft-spoken, but when she had him alone, he often came up with some little gems. "How was the Ukraine?"

"Just fine, honey. Just fine. Hey, I was thinking about getting out my old coin collection to show the boys. Think they'd like that?"

"I think that sounds pretty cool," Emily said, mainly to Henry, who was pretending to sleep. "Henry, want to go with Grandpa and see his coins? They're pretty neat."

Henry poked his head out of its shelter and eyed George, who sat there with open arms. "Come on, Henry. I have some other neat toys, too. Model airplanes, even."

"Go ahead," Emily said encouragingly. Her insides melted into a puddle when Henry let George pick him up. They went off in search of Jack.

"My turn," Elizabeth said as soon as her husband was out of sight.

Emily rolled her eyes in a friendly way and crossed her arms at her waist, sinking further down into her chair now that she had no one to hold on to. "Hi. Thanks for having everyone over. I'd say it was a success."

"Thank you for providing the chefs," her mother returned. "And the free entertainment."

Emily rolled her eyes again and half-moaned, half-laughed. "I can't believe Reid taught Jack how to hang a spoon off his nose in the middle of Thanksgiving dinner."

"Oh, it was adorable. Anyway, how have you been?"

"Great. Well, besides the whole Charlotte scare. But that's mostly passed now. So great."

"Did you smooth things over with Aaron?" Elizabeth asked, her voice lowered, but not nearly enough for Emily's liking.

"I did. But I don't want to get into specifics here," Emily said, eying the several people who milled about the room, most of them two or three glasses of wine in.

"Hon, as long as you're happy. And as long as I have grandchildren."

"I am, and you do." Emily felt her smile growing permanent. Her mom thought of something that needed tending to, and before anyone else could sit down next to her, Emily got up to check in on Charlotte, whose playpen had been set up in Emily's childhood bedroom. Hotch had beat her there; he was either hiding out as well, wanted to see the baby, or some combination of the two. He sat on Emily's old bed, elbows propped up on his knees as he looked down at Charlotte as she slept. "I never thought I'd see you in my old bed," Emily remarked before Hotch realized he had company.

"Oh, sorry."

"I was joking. It's fine. Kind of funny, that's all." She sat next to him, close enough to touch, knowing he would have done the same.

"In that case, did you ever get any action in here?" Hotch asked with a smirk.

Emily scowled. "No, none at all. My parents were home too much. When they were gone, it was to another country, and I was with them."

"Doesn't sound like the Emily I know."

"Oh, is she a slut?"

"You said it, not me."

"Happy Thanksgiving," Emily said, chuckling, holding onto Hotch's nearest arm with both of her hands.

"Happy Thanksgiving." Hotch was overpowered by the desire to create another scene that would have raised the eyebrows of anyone who walked in, but he restrained himself. There was a time and a place for their intimate moments, and in the same place as a dozen of their friends and family members was not that place. Not when no one else understood the nuances of their relationship, how it wasn't a friendship, but wasn't a complete romantic attachment, not yet. For now, it was unique, and it was theirs, and only they knew.

"You okay?" Emily asked.

"I'm fine. Why?"

"You're just kind of spacing out, that's all."

"Tired," Hotch replied truthfully.

"Turkey or sleep deprivation?"

"A little of both," he said.

"Have you had anything to drink?"

"Just a glass of wine at dinner."

"If you want, I can act really sloshed and we'll have to leave," Emily offered.

"Why not _get_ sloshed?"

"Because if I put any more alcohol in me, I will seriously fall asleep."

Hotch chuckled. "I'm fine. We can hang around for a while. I'll stop being a hermit." He got up and Emily followed suit. Their hands drifted to one another's, linking without guilt for half a second before Rossi passed by, two cigars in hand. They let go of each other instantly.

"There you are," Rossi said to Hotch. "Smoke?"

"Never did like cigars, but I'll join you," Hotch replied.

"My mother never lets my father smoke in the house. You'll have to go outside," Emily said apologetically.

"That's all right," Rossi said, giving Emily a once-over. She cocked her head to him in question. "I'll try not to keep him out too late." Rossi waited until he and Hotch were outside in the nippy air and his cigar was lit before he said anything else. "I seem to have fabulous timing today, don't I?" he asked with an impish look.

"I don't know if 'fabulous' is quite the right word." Hotch shoved his cold hands into the pockets of his brown slacks, trying to warm them.

"It's been a while, Aaron. How are things going? And let's just cut to the chase here. I know the kids are fine, now that Charlotte's out of the hospital. You know what _things_ I'm referring to."

"They're fine," Hotch said simply.

Just then, Sean opened the front door, apparently having been informed by someone else that the fun was outside. "Am I interrupting?"

"Not at all," Rossi said with a congenial smile, taking the spare cigar from his jacket pocket and handing it over with a lighter. "You look like you enjoy a good cigar."

"That I do. Thanks. This a Cuban?" Sean asked in secrecy.

"You're a federal employee, Dave," Hotch chided.

"And?"

Sean laughed and lit up. "Thanks."

"You got it, kid. So, Aaron, Sean's your brother and you're getting along. I'll assume he's on the same page as I am, maybe even a couple pages ahead," Rossi said to Hotch. "So again, I ask, how are things going?"

"Like _I_ said, they're fine," Hotch said with as much patience as he could muster up. Truth be told, he was rather happy with where things were at the moment. Part of it was being able to be affectionate toward Emily again, and part of it was knowing that things were under his control—when he felt ready for them to move forward, when he trusted himself, which seemed to be closer and closer to the case every day, things could progress. Emily was simply waiting. For Hotch, knowing that Emily was openly available to him gave him a peace that allowed him to revel in what they had now without lamenting over the fact that it was nothing more.

"I was gonna ask the same thing," Sean said, winking at Rossi. "You're getting along better than you were when I came by last month, anyway."

"I thought you were okay with the no-snooping policy," Hotch said sardonically to his brother as he leaned against a concrete pillar.

"Sorry."

"Just do it, Aaron," Rossi said. "I know you guys have your secret little reasons for not being together, but what you've got going isn't exactly innocent. An idiot could figure that out. Hell, Jack's probably figured that out."

Hotch huffed. "That last part is unfortunately true."

"Then logic follows that the rest of it's true, too. I won't nose into why you're not together—"

"Let me ask you something, Dave," Hotch said, keeping his temper. "How do you know we're _not_ together?"

"Easy. I keep catching you red-handed and you react like you're doing something wrong. You know everyone in that house is pretty much rooting for you two to get together already, so it's not like you'd be hiding it if you were together. Am I right?"

"Annoyingly so. Sean, did Emily drive you over or did you bring your own car?"

"I drove myself. Why? You going home already?"

Hotch ran his hand through his hair, displacing it. "I might. I'm beat."

"I'm not an old bitty who gets off on gossip," Rossi said after blowing a perfect smoke ring. "Well, I am, but that's not all there is to it. I care about you and Emily. Both of you. You're family. I see the way you look at her, and vice versa—you both want something that's missing, and even if you are happy with what you've got right now, it just kinda sucks to sit by and watch you wanting more. Stay tuned for a preview from next week's Unsolicited Advice Hour with David Rossi, where we'll discuss how black does not go with brown, no matter what those fashion TV show freaks tell you." He looked up and down at Hotch, who wore brown slacks and a black and brown sweater. "Who told you that was okay? Don't even say it. I already know."

Hotch was saved by the door yet again. This time, Jessica appeared, dressed for departure. Hotch gladly walked her to her car, hugged her, and thanked her for joining them. She was polite enough not to badger him about Emily—perhaps she didn't care nearly as much as Rossi, or perhaps she had sensed that she'd walked in on exactly that conversation and that Hotch didn't want to hear anymore of it. He concluded it was the latter when she told him that Morgan was looking for him inside, but sounded like she was making it up, trying to give him an out. He took it, excusing himself from Rossi and Sean on his way inside. As he suspected, Morgan stood arm-in-arm with his girlfriend, flashing Hotch a smile and raising his glass to him when he saw him, but not looking at all like he was seeking out a conversation.

"It's getting late," Emily said from right near the front door. He must not have even noticed her. She handed him his coat. "I think I'd like to hit up some sales in the morning."

**One Month Later**

"Sitter's here," Emily called to Hotch. She was on a mad hunt for a specific pair of earrings to go with her red lamé dress.

"You need to go get the door," he replied. "I'm not decent yet."

Emily rolled her eyes and hurried downstairs to let the babysitter in before she froze out in the cold. Seventeen, driver's license, from church, too busy with school to bother with boys—when she and Hotch had decided a month ago that they needed at least one reliable sitter who didn't have a 401(k), she'd seemed like the perfect match. "Hi, Emma," she said with a cheery but hurried smile when she opened up. "Come on in." She waited for Emma to take off her coat and shoes before saying, "Let me give you the tour really quick."

"Hi, Henry," Emma said, ducking down to wave at the boy who appeared from behind Emily's legs. Henry had taken a liking to her, so he trotted over.

"I'm fee now," he said proudly.

"Are you?" Emma asked. "Three? Wow, you're getting big. Did you get anything special for your birthday?" She didn't really need introducing to the children, so Emily let Henry show Emma some toys he'd received while she excused herself and rushed back upstairs to find her earrings.

"Emily!"

Emily rolled her eyes yet again and strode down the hall to Hotch's room, past the boys' room, where Jack was picking out pajamas.

"Yes?" she asked, opening up Hotch's door.

"Still not decent. Shut the door." Emily did so and saw Hotch sitting on the foot of his bed, wearing a classic white button-down, a red and charcoal striped tie that was loosened, and red boxers. Emily would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the sight just a little.

"Wow," he said, glancing at her but trying not to make it too obvious.

"Uh, thanks. This place has a semi-formal dress code, you know," she said. "Pants are appreciated."

"Then I don't think we're going." Hotch held up his slacks and a button. "Button popped off."

Emily looked at him incredulously. "You have no other pants?"

"We're on vacation. I took all my clothes to the cleaners after work tonight and they're already closed now. I called."

"I can't believe you dropped all your clothes off at the cleaners at once. Give them here," Emily said, holding out a hand. "I take it you don't know how to sew a button on?"

"I figure this is kind of like you asking me to kill a spider in your room the other night. You can figure it out. You'd just rather not."

"Put on some jeans and show Emma around the house, would you?" Emily said with a smile, leaving the room for her own, where a sewing kit sat in her closet. Hotch passed by her room in jeans a minute later. She could hear him explaining to Emma that the baby was already asleep, that the boys needed to be in bed in an hour, as well as a litany of household rules Emily wouldn't have bothered with. She had Hotch's button sewn back on in a matter of no time. "Aaron, the button's back on," she said. "Emma doesn't need to know how to bang on the thermostat to get it working. We're going to be late. Chop chop." She found her earrings and took them with her to Hotch's room, not really knowing why. When she watched in shame as he took his jeans off and stepped into his slacks, she knew exactly why.

"Stop looking at me like I'm a piece of meat," he quipped as he chose a belt from his closet.

"But you _are_ a piece of meat," she said. "You know, I've never watched you get dressed before."

Hotch smirked as he tucked his shirt in. "Most people would say there's a good reason for that."

"Screw most people. All right," Emily muttered, suddenly business again, checking her phone. "We're really running late."

"I'm coming, too," Henry announced when Hotch and Emily got downstairs to dress for the weather. He was struggling to put on his snow boots, even though there was no snow on the ground.

"Sorry, baby," Emily cooed, struggling to crouch down and maintain her balance in the heels she knew were too new to do a night out. "No kids this time."

"But I wanna," he pouted, looking at her and not Hotch, knowing where he would find the most favor.

"Emma's gonna let you and Jack have a snack. It's gonna be way better than what we're eating. Okay?"

"Em, stop coddling him. Let's go."

"I'm not coddling him," she hissed. "Come on, sweetie, let's go find Emma. Maybe she'll put on a video for you to watch, too."

They were running even more behind by the time Emily slid into the passenger seat of the car, which Hotch shut once she was seated. "You're being quite the gentleman," she noted when he climbed in behind the wheel.

"I'm normally not a gentleman?" he asked as he backed out of the driveway.

"No comment. You know, I don't think we've had a night out without the kids since July or August. I'm allowed to be excited, right?"

"Of course. Relax and enjoy it."

Emily sighed and closed her eyes, separating her freshly straightened hair to fall over each shoulder before she melted into her seat.

Over the past month, Hotch had been thinking quite a bit about taking the next step with Emily. Their scare with Charlotte had been revealing, reminding him that a little faith was a good thing. That, in turn, got him to wondering if he _would_ ever get to a point in time where he knew with even ninety-nine percent certainty that he could trust himself with Emily, a point where some faith wasn't required. He wasn't really a believer in the notion that all things happened for a reason, so he didn't think Charlotte's illness served some sort of purpose when it came to bringing him and Emily closer to a relationship, but every time he thought about Emily, about himself, about them as a couple, he couldn't help but remember how his belief that everything would work itself out hadn't steered them wrong. In fact, the entire life they lived right now—living together, raising the children together—was the product of one giant leap of faith. It was perhaps the best decision he'd ever made, even though he hadn't always thought that. He certainly thought so now as he took a chance and looked Emily's way, only to find her gazing at him already.

"What's on your mind? You seem distracted," she said with a concerned look.

"Just haven't wound down from work yet, I guess. Sorry."

"It's okay. Nothing's bothering you, though?"

"Not a thing." Hotch offered up a peaceful smile and tried to fill the rest of the car ride with small talk about their days, the kids, whether they thought the sitter could handle them. He was distant throughout dinner and felt guilty for it. Emily was right—they hadn't been out together in ages. He could always save his thinking, his weighing of options, for later, when he was alone.

Alone. Did he really want to be alone again? Even for one more night? He drifted away again when Emily's left hand brushed against his right arm rather intentionally underneath the table. The fact that little things like this—the touches, the gestures, the insinuations to them as a couple—never got old, never failed to give him the chills; they told him that he would never grow complacent when it came to her. The benefits, as he'd named them, would always be benefits. They would never become so commonplace that he didn't appreciate every single one. But did that mean he should convince himself that he—they—didn't need more?

"Want to grab a drink after this? There's a great bar down the street," Garcia said once dessert was served. Hotch watched Emily dig in to one of two plates. Sometime when he hadn't been paying attention, when he'd been on autopilot, he'd agreed to share a dessert with her.

"We have the sitter for another hour, and she said she could stay late if we needed her to," Emily said, shrugging. "What do you think?" she asked Hotch.

"It would be pretty sad if we showed up early," he replied quietly, not realizing how long it had been since he'd spoken.

"Then yeah, let's do drinks," Emily answered, speeding up her consumption of the green tea ice cream in front of her. "Oops, sorry, forgot I was sharing," she laughed, putting down her spoon. "I think I ate my half."

"Go for it," Hotch said. "I'm stuffed anyway."

It had started snowing while they were inside; almost an inch had already piled onto the ground. The four of them walked together to the bar down the block, Hotch and Emily behind Kevin and Garcia. "Since when are you a shy eater?" Hotch asked her, offering up an arm that she took rather eagerly, as if she had been waiting for it.

"What? I was full."

"So you're—" Hotch's phone rang in his coat pocket. "It's the house phone. It's probably Emma," he said, stopping in the middle of the sidewalk. He held a short conversation, the other end of which Emily couldn't hear over the bitter wind and blowing snow that prompted her to close in on him and seek shelter. "I'll be home soon. No, it's okay. Don't feel bad. She's just like that sometimes."

"What's the matter?" Emily asked when Hotch hung up.

"Charlie woke up and won't stop screaming."

"Oh," Emily uttered. "We'd better go catch up with Kevin and Garcia and let them know."

"You can stay," Hotch said, walking with Emily again. "One of us can grab a cab home, or you can have Kevin and Garcia drop you off."

"No, it's okay. We might as well get home and wrap presents anyway. We can do drinks another night."

The two of them heard Charlotte's screaming from the driveway. "I hope she's not sick again," Hotch said when he unlocked the door.

"She's not sick. I guarantee you she woke up, saw a stranger, and freaked. She probably just wants to see you."

"Or you."

Emily was right. She took the baby from Emma, but Charlotte continued her fit, so she handed her over to Hotch, who asked her "What is it?" as he received her, and she calmed instantly.

Emma looked embarrassed. "I'm so sorry to cut your date short. Nothing I tried was working."

"It's really okay," Emily said with a consoling smile. "Like Aaron said, she's just like that sometimes. We were done with dinner anyway. Cash or check?"

"Uh, either one is fine."

"I'll go warm your car up and brush it off for you," Hotch said, seeing if Charlotte would take to Emily. She did, apparently only needing Hotch to calm her down initially. Hotch took Emma's keys and went back outside.

"Hi, Miss Difficult," Emily greeted her as she dug out her wallet. "Thank you so much," she added to Emma. "We haven't been out in forever. It was very much needed."

"No problem."

"Were the boys good?"

"Jack tried to convince me that his bedtime wasn't until eleven, but I babysit all the time. I know all their tricks."

Emily rolled her eyes. "That sounds exactly like him. Here you go," she said, forking over two twenties, not sure what hourly rate they'd agreed on but not caring. She counted the extra as a really fat tip. "Can we call you again if we need to?"

"Absolutely. Goodnight, Charlotte." Emma crouched down slightly and waved. The baby smiled back. "Oh, _now_ you like me."

"Don't take it personally. You saw, she wouldn't even have anything to do with _me_. Goodnight. Drive safely. It's pretty nasty outside. Do you want to stick around until it slows down?"

"I was watching the news. It's only supposed to get worse. My car handles really well in the snow, though. I'll be fine."

Hotch was still shaking the gargantuan snowflakes from his jacket when they saw Emma drive off through the glass by the front door. Emily successfully put Charlotte back to bed, then changed into flannel pajama pants and an old Yale t-shirt before checking in on the boys, who were sound asleep. She shut their door and opened up the door to the attic. She was just pulling down the ladder when Hotch emerged from his own bedroom, also having changed into pajamas. "Let's save the big stuff for tomorrow night as Santa presents," she whispered. "And anything they can break by shaking. And the stupid video game system," which Hotch had insisted the boys deserved after behaving rather well throughout the year given how much their lives had been shaken up. Jack had heard about the gaming console from some other students at school and had been harping on about it for a month.

Emily took the presents that Hotch passed down, finding herself wondering what Hotch had gotten her and where he'd hidden it. They hadn't laid down a no-presents rule for the two of them like they had for birthday season. She still hadn't picked up a gift for him, lacking the inspiration.

"Tape?" Hotch asked a few minutes later. They sat on his wide-open bedroom floor with the door shut, each with an awkwardly shaped toy between their knees.

Emily handed over the only roll and sighed. "I think all kids' toys should come in rectangular boxes with no holes."

"I think every parent in the world thinks that every time they wrap a present."

They wrapped a few gifts in silence, both enjoying the other's company without a need for conversation. Eventually, though, Emily remembered how quiet Hotch had been at dinner. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asked out of nowhere.

"Of course. What would make you think otherwise?"

"You were just really zoning out tonight. Did you not like the food?"

Hotch's heart pounded. "Food was great. No complaints."

"Really? Because you hardly stopped to taste it. You kind of hoovered it."

While Emily picked on him, Hotch envisioned what a leap of faith might look like, even though it was merely a figure of speech. He thought of himself jumping over a giant gap between two cliff faces, a rushing, unforgiving river beneath him. "Sorry. You're right. I guess I was a little distracted."

"Long day?"

"Yeah," he said truthfully. He had indeed had a long day. But that wasn't the half of it.

"Anything you want to talk about? You know I'm a good listener. And I give good back rubs."

Hotch drew in a deep breath, barely able to hear Emily over his heart, which now thudded somewhere inside his head. _Jump_, he told himself. "Actually, yeah. There is something."

"Oh," Emily said, pausing and putting her present—a pair of pajamas that Jack desperately needed but that she knew he'd toss aside in favor of the Lego set that Hotch was wrapping—to give Hotch her full attention. "What's up?" She turned to face him, elbows on her knees, chin resting on her fists.

Hotch knew he had to be honest, forthright. They'd tried things their way, what they felt to be the more romantic, natural way, and it had ended in heartache. He had to accept the fact that their circumstances called for more care, even if it took the fun out of the first kiss (or the fourth first kiss, as it were). "I've been thinking a lot lately." He put one last piece of tape on Jack's present and wrote out a name label for it, placing it on a corner and adding a stick-on bow.

"About what?"

"About us."

"Oh." Emily's heart dropped like a rock. She knew she should be happy that Hotch had been thinking about them, but she couldn't gauge whether his aloofness throughout the evening, and throughout some other times over the past month, had been of the good or bad variety. It really hadn't worried her until now, though. Before, she had just chalked it up to him being tired, which he had every right to be.

"You know how this all started out without either one of us being sure if it would work out?" Hotch asked, setting Jack's gift aside and turning to meet Emily's eyes.

"Yeah. But it did."

"Exactly. That's what I've been reminding myself of."

"What do you mean?" Emily's brow furrowed as different scenarios ran through her mind, one of them being a vision of Hotch walking out the door.

Hotch sensed Emily's fear and scooted closer to her. "I wish I could make this more…romantic," he said, taking in another lungful of air.

Emily's insecurities washed away at Hotch's last word. Her lips curled in anticipation, wondering what Hotch had in store. It certainly couldn't be bad; she knew that now. He looked down at his hands while he spoke, but she took this as a sign of nervousness, not deception.

"I don't think I'll ever know for sure, Emily. About whether I can go without making love to you, if that's what it comes down to. I'm _pretty_ sure, but I think that's as good as it's ever going to get. And when I think about it, my life is what it is right now because of a giant leap of faith. And I think that one took a lot more faith than this would. There were so many unknown variables back then. We were barely even on speaking terms with one another. I don't think there's nearly that much uncertainty now on my part. I think it's the same amount as anyone has going into any relationship. Maybe even less. We already know each other inside and out." He felt like he was rambling needlessly now. He took a risky glance up at Emily, whose lips had rolled up between her teeth, whose eyes shone. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. She was waiting patiently, though, giving no indication that she didn't appreciate his long-winded explanation, showing no signs of wanting to interrupt him. So he continued. "I'm ready, Em. I'll never be more ready than I am right now. And as painful as it's been sometimes to know that I couldn't just jump in and surprise you, do things my way, be more romantic, I'm still glad I waited. I guess all I need to know is whether you're still ready."

Emily reached out a hand blindly as she maintained eye contact with Hotch, who hadn't looked nearly as scared since he'd come home from the hospital empty-handed. "There's nothing not romantic about the fact that you wanted to wait until you were ready. And of course I'm still ready."

Hotch didn't have a clever response in his arsenal; he simply moved closer, close enough so that when he leaned in, one hand flattened gently against Emily's burning cheek, the other tickling the back of her neck—which probably gave him more chills than it did her—he would be close enough to kiss her. He wondered what thoughts and feelings she must be having; he prayed they were only good.

As he erased the gap between them, he wished he could promise her that he'd never hurt her again. He knew that would defeat the purpose of his entire monologue, though. He couldn't promise her such things. The only further comfort he could offer her was to tell her the truth. _One more leap_, he thought. "I love you." With his lips, with the initiation of their fourth first kiss, he afforded her no opportunity to reply.

**A/N: **_**Please**_** leave a review, even if you never have before! I'd love to hear your thoughts after such a pivotal moment in the story.**


	88. The Left Turn

Hotch's three words were still ringing in Emily's ears well into the kiss that felt more exhilarating than the other three combined, even though it consisted of lips on lips only. Hotch's proclamation came as no surprise in terms of its content, its meaning. Emily knew he loved her. Part of her had known for quite a while, though she couldn't pin down a certain time at which she'd realized it. Whether he'd ever say it had always been the question. His timing, however, left her speechless, which was just as well, as her mouth was unavailable at the moment. Only half an hour ago, she'd been wondering how much to pay the babysitter. And before that, she'd been regretting eating Hotch's half of their dessert. All of that—her entire day, really—seemed hilariously trivial in light of her current circumstances.

Every inch of her skin felt flushed when they pulled away from one another far enough for the other's facial features to come into focus. Her parted lips formed into a fleeting gentle smile before she took another dive.

Hotch's tongue, before long, slipped from between his lips and attempted to part Emily's. Before things got any heavier, though, she knew she needed to say something.

"What's wrong?" was Hotch's reflexive response.

Emily lay another tender but brief kiss on his lips to quell his apparent fear. "Nothing. Sorry. I just wanted to say that I love you, too. And you know better than to think I'm saying it just to say it, right?" She looked longingly into his eyes as she swept her small hand from his forehead to his neck, flipping his hair out of place. He didn't answer, only moved in closer for another kiss. "I've always wanted to run my fingers through your hair without having to apologize for it," she said with a giggle before their mouths reunited. Hotch hummed against her lips in some sort of laugh until she opened up to him, squeezing the back of his neck more firmly the more of Hotch's mouth she tasted. He behaved, keeping his hands very far north of her waist, removing the worry of things going too far again.

"How are we supposed to wrap presents now?" Emily asked when they parted again after an indeterminable amount of time. An immense weight lifted off her shoulders, she let out a deep sigh and found a way to get tangled up in Hotch's arms, her side pressed against his chest. A little moan sounded from her when he drew her so close that she could barely breathe. Not that breathing was anywhere on her conscious list of things she cared about.

"We can always save the rest for tomorrow night," Hotch said, his throat against Emily's crown, his words traveling not only to her ears, but through her skin, to every extremity.

Both of them would have been hard-pressed to describe in words how it felt for five years of acquaintance, four years of friendship, and three years of wanting more, to culminate here, on Hotch's bedroom floor, surrounded by wrapping paper scraps, poorly wrapped presents, and the sound of one another's rhythmic breathing. It was absolutely surreal to think that a year ago, neither of them had thought they'd ever speak another friendly word to the other. When Hotch thought about a year back, something sparked his memory. He'd told JJ, at a Christmas party she'd hosted, of his love for Emily. He'd even used the word. Now wasn't the time to bring that up with Emily, though. It was a romantic tale, yes, but too bittersweet for the moment.

"I love you," he said again, brushing his fingers lazily up and down Emily's spine, hoping he made every bit of her skin tingle as his did.

She laughed briefly. "I love you more." She wrapped both hands around his forearm, caressing, in an attempt to memorize him piece by piece. She supposed she'd never bothered to before because she'd never been sure if doing so wouldn't just run the risk of hurting herself in the end. But she had never felt so sure about anything as she did this, right here. The fear and apologies stopped now.

"We aren't going to play that game, are we?" Hotch asked, amused.

"Are you already giving up?" Emily replied.

"Never."

Emily felt Hotch's chin resting on her head, her entire body moving with his when he sighed contentedly. She then eyed their work to be done with contempt. "I vote we definitely save those. I don't think I could cut in a straight line if I tried."

"I second that. But we can't leave the unwrapped stuff sitting around. Care to clean up?"

Emily laughed. "No. But I guess we have to." Emily groaned and somehow managed to stand gain her bearings before Hotch wrapped his arms around her again.

"Will you move in with me?" Hotch asked suddenly, playfully, after one soft kiss on the lips. He then moved his mouth to the crook of Emily's neck and left ghostlike kisses along the neckline of her t-shirt.

"_That_ was fast."

"Well—"

"Joking. Of course I'll move in with you. Good thing you already know I'm a blanket hog. It won't be a surprise."

"No worries. Bigger bed. Bigger blankets."

"Then in that case, I think it'll be a smooth transition." Emily figured that the sooner they cleaned up, the sooner they could get back to being blissfully ignorant of their surroundings, the sooner they could get lost in each other again, learn what it felt like to be together without a care in the world, so she gathered up paper scraps while Hotch began to take what was already wrapped and put it under the Christmas tree downstairs. Emily put the unwrapped gifts back in the attic and met him at the unlit tree to help him arrange the new additions in some sort of aesthetically pleasing manner alongside the other gifts—most of them for other family members and friends—that were already there.

"You know, I never had this nice of a Christmas," Hotch remarked, though not remorsefully. He loved being able to give his family a better life, in any way he could, than the one he'd had growing up, even though that had not really been anything to complain about. He supposed that was the goal of most parents. He made a mental note to make sure he achieved that goal in more arenas than gift-giving.

"Eh, only child. I was kind of spoiled," Emily said, standing by Hotch's side and slipping an arm around his waist. He did her one better, pulling her in so that they were chest to chest. "It's kind of nice that we can do this in front of other people if we want to now, and no one has the right to raise an eyebrow," she remarked.

"They never really had a right to before, either," Hotch pointed out. "It wasn't their relationship, or lack thereof."

"I suppose."

"Can you do me a favor?" Hotch asked, taking Emily by the hand and leading her to toward the stairs.

"Of course."

"Don't tell Garcia yet," he said as they climbed up the stairs together.

"Why? Do you want to surprise her?"

"Not her, so much as Dave, and maybe Sean. They've been snoopier lately than I've liked. And you know if you tell Garcia we're together, it'll be on the front page of the morning paper."

"She wouldn't say anything if I asked her not to." Hotch hung a left at the top of the stairs. Without remembering her wish from not long ago, Emily turned left, too.

"It's Garcia," Hotch said with a smirk. "She doesn't have to say a word. Her face says it all."

"Okay, okay," Emily said, sighing. "How long, though? I know I'm over the hill but I'm still a girl. I need to be able to kiss and tell."

"You didn't kiss and tell when we fooled around a few years ago."

"Well, that was different. Our jobs were on the line. This is a high school level of giddiness and the relationship is totally appropriate. I'll give you _one_ day of silence."

"Two days. A day and a half. Christmas, when everyone's here," Hotch said.

"All right," Emily said pleasantly, licking her lips in secret and shutting their bedroom door behind her.

"Ten minutes and we're already all business," Hotch observed as he turned down the covers.

"It's us. That's what we do, right?" Emily shrugged and hit the light before following Hotch to bed. The moonlight bouncing off the freshly fallen snow left enough light in the room for her to find her way without tripping. Fortunately, their bed side preferences caused no trouble—Emily took the left side, Hotch the right. She was completely enveloped in him before her head even hit the pillow. After all their chatter, her heart began to flutter again. "This is still kind of hard to believe, you know. Just like that…"

"It was anything but _just like that_. We've been through a lot to get where we are." Hotch ran his fingers through the length of Emily's hair and let it fall as it would onto her pillow. "Did it really feel too sudden?"

"Not _too_ sudden. Out of the blue, yes, but in a very good way. I don't really know if it could have been any more perfect."

"Not even if I sang you a song?"

"Nothing could have dissuaded me, really, but you singing might have come close. Not that I'm one to talk about vocal gifts."

Hotch chuckled so heavily it shook the bed. "Good point."

"Hmm, guess what," Emily said, kissing Hotch's chest through his shirt after a long while of lying there with nothing that needed to be said.

"What?"

She found his lips in the semi-darkness and kissed him tamely, but not without a detectable fervor. "I can do this now, and not feel like we took fifty steps backward. It's finally okay."

Hotch didn't return the kiss, instead resting his head further up on his pillow and tightening his embrace. "Pretty nice, isn't it?"

"How much do you want to bet, Jack will finally wake up in the middle of the night when we're in bed together? He's never caught us before."

"Wouldn't surprise me. If the last couple of months have been any indication, he'll be thrilled once he figures it out."

"What about Henry?" Emily said. "Think we should say anything?"

"Just tell him you moved down the hall. A three-year-old doesn't really need further explanation."

Emily pulled the covers tighter over them, knowing she'd probably regret the combination of blankets and body heat in a few hours, and turned in Hotch's arms. "You tired?" she asked as he matched the curve of her back and joined hands with her.

"Very, but I don't know if I'd be able to fall asleep," he admitted.

"We should probably try. The kids won't alter their schedule, you know. We'll be up before the sun no matter what time we fall asleep."

Hotch yawned, then laughed quietly at his timing. "Then let's try."

"One more thing first."

"What's that?"

Emily turned her head back as far as she could, and Hotch picked up on her cue as easily as if she had told him aloud what she wanted. He propped himself up and met her lips for a goodnight kiss that got more heated than the last couple. It ended up a gentle, controlled note.

Emily felt the need to beat Hotch to the punch this time, to say it first, as if that would make it more true. "I love you."

"And I love you."

**A/N: Please leave a review! How does it feel? :)**


	89. Banana Pancakes and Special Friends

**A/N: Thanks for the lovely reviews! I'm glad you're happy :D I know I am!  
**

**Christmas Eve 2011  
**

Emily woke up sprawled out over her half the bed. She could feel Hotch's hand just touching her side, could hear him snoring lightly. Her eyes peeled open to reveal what—or whom, as it were—had woken her.

"Hi," Jack whispered.

"Good morning," she whispered back with a small smile. She reached out a stiff arm and smoothed a hand through his typically mussed up hair. "It's still early," she said, looking out the window into the darkness illuminated slightly by the snow.

"It's time to wake up," Jack hissed.

"It's Saturday. Sleep in a little."

"But I don't wanna."

"Then go watch some cartoons."

"How come you're in Daddy's bed?"

"Because it's my bed too, now." Emily tried not to look too expectant. She didn't want to prime Jack with a reaction.

Jack grinned. "Okay."

Emily withheld her sigh of relief. She hadn't truly been afraid of a negative response from Jack, but it was nice to get that moment out of the way, all the same. "Is Henry up, too?"

Jack nodded and made a move to climb into bed.

"Nuh-uh," Emily said. "Back to your own bed or go turn on some cartoons, okay? Your dad's still sleeping. We'll be down in a little bit."

"Can I watch whatever I want?"

"On the channels you're allowed to watch."

"Okay." Jack trotted out of the room and shut the door behind him, but not softly enough. Hotch's snoring came to a halt and he groaned softly.

"Time is it?" he asked.

"Too early," Emily answered, turning around to face Hotch. Jack's appearance had delayed that feeling she knew she would get, when she woke in the morning and remembered what had happened the night before. When the exhilarating feeling did make itself known, she smiled. They were together.

"What?" Hotch asked, grinning back.

"Just happy," Emily said, shrugging her top shoulder.

"I see. Did you happen to…maybe cheat and get out of bed and brush your teeth already?" Hotch asked hopefully.

Emily laughed. "You can't smell my morning breath from over there?"

"Why were you awake already, then?"

"Jack came in to wake us up. I bought us another half hour though, I think."

"Did he say anything?" Hotch ran a finger up Emily's bare arm, watching her smile grow.

"Not really. I think his exact words were 'okay.'"

"Hmm." Hotch closed in for a peck on the lips and then backed out of bed. "Be right back."

"Gonna brush so you can make out with me?" she asked jokingly.

"Possibly," he said, not looking back as he stretched his arms upward and yawned loudly. He didn't sound as joking as she had, so she sneaked off to the bathroom down the hall and grabbed her toothbrush. She could hear the din of the cartoon Jack had turned on down in the living room as she tip-toed back to safety.

"Want to know something I've always wanted to do?" Emily asked as she stood side-by-side with Hotch and helped herself to his toothpaste. He raised a questioning eyebrow as he brushed.

Emily grabbed a healthy handful of Hotch's bottom and squeezed it, then got to brushing. The only reaction she got out of him for the time being, as his mouth was full of toothpaste, was two raised eyebrows and a twinkle in his eyes.

"You know," Hotch said once he was finished and had dabbed his lips with a towel, "between all the times we've already fooled around—"

"It's only been twice, numbers one and three. Number two was a high schooler kiss, remember?"

"Whatever. Between both times we've fooled around, you've probably already grabbed my ass at some point in time."

Emily nodded in reluctant agreement. She felt an itch start, an itch that needed scratching. She suppressed it, though, knowing that the kissing and playful banter was more than enough for now. There was no sense in rushing past that stage, the stage that was often her favorite in any serious relationship. The stage where "I love you" couldn't be said enough, where every private moment resulted in sneaking a kiss before anyone else walked into the room, where every little touch made every other sensation fade into the background for a few glorious moments.

Emily didn't reply just yet, finishing brushing her own teeth and then leading the way back to bed. "Have I ever done…this?" she asked, pulling the sheets slowly over their heads once Hotch was lying next to her, reaching for her waist.

"I can't say you have." Hotch found the crook of Emily's neck, tasting the slight saltiness of her skin as she snaked her arms around his back and guided him over her. Their mouths had a well-behaved meeting resulting in a soft sigh on Emily's end before she felt Hotch's tongue take advantage of the gap between her lips.

Hotch could tell that kissing Emily was going to take up most of his brainpower for some time to come. Even though he'd already spent a considerable amount of time in the past familiarizing himself with her lips, her tongue, her wants and needs—_plenty_ of time given the fact that she had never before been his in that way—kissing her was completely different now that it was allowed and expected. He was glad removing the taboo hadn't had a negative effect on the adrenaline rush; he'd found throughout his life, especially during his youth, that enjoyable things often became a tad less so when they were no longer prohibited. Thankfully, that wasn't at all the case with Emily. He deepened the kiss, his lips nearly smothering hers when he sensed that was what she was waiting for. He wanted to do the same with his body, to lower himself onto her and cover her completely, and he could tell by her tightening grip that she wanted much the same thing, but he feared where that might take them. As he moved from hovering over Emily back to beside her, she moaned in protest.

"Probably not a good idea," Hotch explained in a brief break from the kiss.

"Probably not." Emily knew Hotch was right to put on the brakes, but she couldn't withhold a sigh all the same.

He tucked her hair behind her ear and took her eyes captive. At the touch of his hand, she felt compelled to do the same. She ran her fingers through his hair yet again. "I love your bed head."

Hotch smirked and closed in on Emily's neck. "You saying I shouldn't shower?"

"Oh, no," Emily said, giggling quietly, "you should definitely shower. But maybe…forget the razor until you have to go back to work?"

"Hmm," Hotch purred against Emily's bared throat. "I foresee a lot of kissing in our immediate future. You sure you want me all scratchy?"

"I definitely want a little scruff. If I get a 'stache rash I'll let you know."

"Your wish is my command."

Emily smiled as Hotch continued to suck on her skin. "Are you giving me a hickey?" she asked, tickling the nape of his neck with her fingers and closing her eyes, soaking in the sensation either way.

"What if I am?"

"I'm forty. No, forty-one. I don't think I'm allowed to have hickeys."

"We'll see about that."

"Aaron, seriously," she moaned, laughing a little too loudly.

"That's why they invented turtlenecks. Now stop interrupting me."

Emily knew Hotch was only joking once he ceased all suction and moved to a different spot with every tiny kiss.

"If I was sixteen, or if I didn't have to see every adult I know tomorrow, I would let you cover me in hickeys. Just so you know."

Hotch chuckled. "Good to know. I'll keep that in mind." He moved in for another kiss on the lips, which Emily kept brief.

"The boys are down their all by themselves," she noted.

"What damage could they do in the next…twenty minutes?" Hotch asked.

"I don't know, I just feel bad leaving them down there all alone."

"They love it. Saturday morning cartoons and no grown-ups making them get dressed."

"I guess," Emily relented. The next five minutes belonged to her and Hotch, both growing very short of breath under the sheets. "Will you make pancakes or French toast or something if I make the bed?" she asked when they came up for air.

"Now?"

Emily sensed the pouting in Hotch's voice. "Yes. Come on, they're probably starving. They always eat when they get up."

"All right, all right."

"I love you."

Hotch grinned, his heart swelling at the sound of her words. "I love you, too." He left a peck on Emily's lips and headed downstairs. She came down a few minutes later to find him picking up soggy cereal from the kitchen floor with a paper towel. A half-empty gallon of milk, purchased just the day before, sat on the countertop, from where milk still dripped.

"What happened here?" she asked.

"Sorry," Jack said timidly, poking his head out from behind the counter. His father gave him an unimpressed look.

"Someone decided to try and make his own breakfast," Hotch said.

"Told you they'd be hungry," Emily said, ruffling Hotch's hair as she crouched down to the pick up the milk jug.

"Can we have pancakes?" Jack asked, watching while his father cleaned up his mess.

"Pancakes!" Henry agreed, rushing in from the living room.

"Yup, Daddy's making pancakes," Emily said excitedly, more to Hotch than to the boys. "Do you guys want _special_ pancakes? Chocolate chip?"

"Banana!" Henry replied.

"Ooh, banana pancakes," Emily marveled. "That sounds yummy. And maybe some scrambled eggs?" Henry nodded and ran back to his cartoons.

"Can we open a present right now?" Jack asked.

"Tomorrow morning," Hotch said, his voice foreboding enough to prevent further questioning. "Come help me clean this up."

Jack huffed and followed Emily to the sink, where she wet two washcloths.

"We need to mop anyway. It's not a big deal," Emily murmured once Jack was released from cleaning duties.

"He's getting old enough to where he should know better, that's all," Hotch said. "I'm not actually mad at him. I just want him to remember to think twice next time."

"All right," Emily conceded, finding a place in Hotch's arms. "Can we laugh about it now that he's out of the room? Because you have to admit, it was adorable."

"Says the one who watched me clean it up," Hotch deadpanned, palming Emily's waist and rubbing up and down her back.

"It was your fault and you know it. I tried to get you down here sooner."

**Christmas 2011  
**

"Can we play it now?" Jack asked Hotch as the latter hooked up the most popular Christmas present, the new video game system.

"Not until everyone goes home," Emily said. "Remember what we said, by the way. No talking to anyone about your daddy and I being special friends, okay? We want to surprise them."

"Special friends?" Hotch asked from behind the television.

"You mean boyfriend and girlfriend," Jack corrected her. They had done a very shoddy job explaining to Jack what the nature of this recent development was. They hadn't talked it over ahead of time. This resulted in Hotch and Emily disagreeing with what terminology to use.

"That sounds so wrong coming from him," Emily said, scrunching her nose. "Why couldn't we have just stuck with 'special friends'?"

"Because he's not three."

"I'm six!"

"That's right," Hotch said. "See, Em? He's six. He's a big boy. He understands what a boyfriend and girlfriend are."

"When's everyone coming?" Jack asked.

"Any minute now," Emily said. "_Ooh_, you know what? I think I heard a car pull up. You'd better go see who it is." Jack hurried to the front door, Henry hot on his heels. "Want to leave that for later?" Emily asked Hotch, who brushed dust from his hands.

"All done." He came out from behind the television and put everything back into place.

"So I just wait until you've got Sean and Rossi together and come over and lay a big fat one on you?" Emily clarified.

"Anything to sufficiently embarrass them." Hotch was going to sneak in one quick kiss, but he heard Jack letting someone in the front door already and didn't want to risk it, so he picked Charlotte up off the floor, took away a piece of wrapping paper she'd found, and straightened her dress. "Let's go see who's here."

"Grandma!"

"I do need to tell my parents personally," Emily said. "Maybe we can do that before anyone else gets here. And Jessica. She should know, too. And Garcia, of course. _I_ have to be the one to tell her. Everyone else will find a surprise funny, but I don't think any of those four would. And I repeat, I need to be the one to tell Garcia."

"Heard you loud and clear," Hotch said.

Emily took a deep breath and looked at Hotch, smiling broadly. "This is it. Damn it," she hissed, her smile disappearing. "We're wearing kind of the same color green. I didn't try, I _swear_. Want me to go change?" Hotch just shook his head in disbelief and nudged her through the kitchen.

"There you are," the ambassador said, pulling Emily in for a hug as her husband shook hands with Hotch. They swapped after Emily's parents had removed their jackets, and somewhere in the mix, Elizabeth ended up with Charlotte, who found her beaded necklace rather fascinating.

"Before anyone gets here, Aaron and I need to tell you something," Emily said, stringing her words all into one long noise. She took a tray from her father and set it on the counter. They had agreed to have a less formal gathering to minimize the stress of feeding dinner to—and seating—over a dozen people in a house that was at times uncomfortably small for five. Elizabeth had offered to host Christmas, too, but Emily and Hotch were both keen on the idea of hosting everyone themselves in some capacity. "What is it?"

"Well," Emily started, glancing at Hotch nervously, hoping to find confidence. She only found a mostly blank look with a hint of derisive pleasure. "We're together now. Umm, seeing each other…" Emily rolled her hands in the air, nodding. Her parents' eyes lit up. "Whatever you want to call it."

"Oh, Em. That's great news." Elizabeth beamed and hugged her daughter again. "I'm happy for you, sweetheart. You worked everything out?" she whispered in her ear as her husband joked to Hotch about the pistol that was in the glove box of his car.

"Close enough," Emily said with a nervous, quiet chuckle.

"Should we expect some more grandkids?" George asked, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, looking back and forth between Emily and Hotch.

"Dad," Emily shot. Her face lit on fire. She and Hotch had thus far avoided talking about any serious plans involving more children. Emily was fine with this, as it meant that she didn't need to come up with an answer. She was torn for many reasons, reasons that she wasn't sure Hotch would understand. Not talking about children also kept sexual expectations off the table for the time being. Emily knew they were both too sensible to share a bed for too long before laying out their future plans and choosing to be protected if that was indeed the path they chose. And as soon as they broached that subject, they would be acknowledging aloud what they hadn't since the relationship had officially begun—that they both expected, or at least hoped, that they would make love eventually. The current intensity level had her satisfied, and the fact that Hotch was happy would have been quite the understatement. Over the past year, he'd become more affectionate than she had ever known him to be, but since the night before last, he hadn't been able to keep his hands or lips off of her when they were in the same room. She loved this, not only for the affection itself, but also because it put no pressure on her for more. Not only would baby talk increase sexual expectations, but it would also introduce the thought of marriage, and while Emily couldn't see them continuing their relationship without the prospect of marriage, it all seemed rather fast, even given how well they already knew each other and how deep their feelings were.

"Sorry, sorry," George said, belly-laughing. "Congratulations, honey. You look happy, you sound happy…"

Elizabeth took off her shoes and stole Hotch and the boys, as well as Charlotte, whom she still held, and walked with them into the house so Emily could have a moment alone with her father.

"I am happy," Emily said, readily accepting another hug. "I never thought I would be this happy, to be honest. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life being content or maybe happy, but not this happy."

"Whole new level of happy, isn't it?" George asked sweetly.

"It really is. Anyway, before I get all misty-eyed, just so you know there are a couple of people Aaron wants to surprise. I'll try and tell everyone else in private, but just don't bring it up in conversation until one of us makes it obvious that everyone's been clued in. Just in case."

Emily's father winked. "Gotcha. White car just pulled up," he noted, picking up a giant shopping bag by his feet.

"That's Jessica. You remember her," Emily told him when she peeked outside. She led her father to the rest of the family and informed Hotch of Jessica's arrival.

Hotch opened up the door to see Jessica laden with gifts and two cookie tins. "Hey, Jess. Here, let me get those." He took on her burden and waited until she had lost her shoes and coat before leading her into the living room.

"Merry Christmas," she said, watching Hotch lay her gifts by the tree.

He hugged her tightly, his memories of her over the past ten months—the bad, the worse, the better, and the best—flashed before his eyes. "Merry Christmas."

"You seem...I can't place it," she said with a twisted mouth when she pulled away. "Happy? I think?"

This elicited a short laugh from Hotch, who sat down on the couch and invited Jessica to do the same. "I have some news," he said, glancing back behind him. He could hear Emily, the kids, and her parents setting up and chatting. When he looked back at Jessica, she wore a knowing look.

"I think I know what you're about to tell me."

"I won't make you guess. Emily and I are seeing each other now. And I wanted to tell you personally instead of letting you hear it secondhand. You're family, and how you feel about this—"

"Aaron, I'm happy for you." Jessica mustered up a smile that was obviously tainted with longing for her late sister. "I'm sorry," she said when tears welled up in the corners of her eyes. Hotch lay a consoling hand on her shoulder and she covered it with her own. "I know you and Emily are crazy about each other. Even an idiot could see that. I just...the holidays get me worked up about Haley, and I think that you could be dating the world's most perfect woman and I would still be...irrationally bitter that it's not Haley. I know it's impossible because she's gone, but I only knew you as Haley's husband. So to see you moving on to play that role with someone else, no matter how amazing that someone else is," she added, cocking her head toward the dining room to indicate her approval of Hotch's choice.

"I didn't say anything about marriage," Hotch said.

"Oh, please," Jessica said, wiping her tears away carefully and waving at him. "You love her. That's obvious. You'll marry her. Honestly, I hope you do. I think everyone involved will be happy when that happens. Even me. It's just weird that it's official. I'll get over myself, I wear. I'm sorry. This is good news and I'm ruining it."

"Jess, you're not ruining it. I understand how you feel. Just know that my life is different now. I don't think of Emily as a replacement for Haley, because that was one life, and this is in many ways another."

"I know," Jessica whispered. "I'm gonna sneak into the bathroom and get myself together. I don't want Emily to see me and get the wrong idea. I really am happy for both of you. You deserve to have each other."

"Thank you." Hotch didn't have the heart to clue Jessica in on his miniature prank against Rossi and Sean. He trusted she wouldn't be bringing it up with anyone but him or Emily, anyway. He let her go to the bathroom, watching guiltily after her. The doorbell rang not soon after, and Emily called from the dining room that she needed him to get it.

Elizabeth had apparently needed both hands and had put Charlotte down on the floor. She took a full-fledged crawl toward Hotch, but her knees got stuck on her dress and stopped her. "I bet you can make good news even better," he said, crouching down and holding his hands out to her. She used them to stand up, then walk with his support until she reached his face. "Look at you go. Maybe you should steal the show today and walk, huh?" The doorbell rang again. "Coming!" It was Garcia. He smirked and opened up the door. "Why do you still knock?"

Garcia handed some of her offerings to Hotch and managed to take off her white coat and hang it over the others. Her festive red, green, and white garb, consisting of a Garcia-appropriate amount of jingling bells and glittering snow-covered poinsettias, made it hard not to stare. Christmas was always Hotch's favorite holiday, and the first Christmas he had known Garcia, she had added another reason to his list. "Because I had a crap load of presents in my arms. And why are you so..._happy_?"

Hotch immediately straightened his face. "Am I normally not happy?"

"You're normally not grinning like an idiot."

"Well, it's Christmas," Hotch said with a shrug as he walked into the living room.

"Then merry Christmas to you. I'll take the baby," she said, holding her arms out for Charlotte. This didn't surprise Hotch in the least. The doorbell rang yet again as Hotch was trying to arrange newly arrived gifts so that they weren't quite buried under the tree but left room to get by. "Can I be a terrible host and ask if you wouldn't mind getting that?"

Garcia handed over the rest of her gifts. "On it."

**A/N: Please leave a review! :D And please read the below, even though it's long.**


	90. Christmas

"Why hello," Garcia said with a vivacious smile when she let Sean inside. "Mister restaurant man closed up shop for Christmas?"

Sean grinned and kicked snow off his boots before stepping in and removing them. "I would've been the only place open in town. I'm not that late, am I?" he asked.

"Oh, no, we're still waiting for more after you. Do come in. May I take some of that off your hands?"

"Got it, but thanks. So, where's your boyfriend? Kevin, right?"

"My one and only, yes. He's spending Christmas with his family in Ohio. I spent yesterday with him and today I'm with this lovely gang. I normally spend it with him, but this year's a little different."

Hotch could hear Garcia and Sean chatting and met them near the kitchen. "Hey, thanks for coming," he said, hugging Sean and patting him firmly on the back.

"No way, thanks for having me. You guys do presents yet?" he asked, holding up a bag.

Hotch stepped to the side and put the tree into Sean's view. Sean whistled. "And the boys have already opened everything from us…and Santa," Hotch added, just in case Henry or Jack had come into hearing distance without him knowing. Reid, Morgan and his girlfriend, and Rossi arrived over the next twenty minutes, rounding out the crowd by two o'clock.

Hotch rather missed Emily, who hadn't been away from his side for more than half an hour the last couple of days, so he didn't want to wait too long to pull off his little joke. He managed to herd Sean and Rossi into the same corner once, but failed to keep the interest of Sean, whom Jack took up to his bedroom to show him the gifts he'd received so far.

Hotch eyed Emily from across the room. She was now carrying a couple of sugar cookies and nursing some eggnog as she talked to Morgan and his new flame. It was obvious, at least to Hotch, that she was trying to get out of the conversation. She kept scanning the room to catch a glimpse of Garcia, but clearly couldn't find a polite way out of her conversation.

"We got to go to church at midnight!" Jack shared with his uncle when they came back downstairs.

"Oh yeah? Did you stay awake?"

"I did. Henry and Charlie didn't, but I did," Jack said proudly, giving Sean a high five when Sean held up his hand for one.

Hotch and Rossi still stood at a conversational distance but both had fallen silent after a while. The team had gotten back from a long case just the day before, so Rossi was tired, and Hotch was distracted both with wondering how to get his brother back over and with watching Emily. She must have just caved and shared the big news with Morgan, who was hugging her so tightly that he almost lifted her off the ground. Her mind-numbing and contagious laugh flitted across the room. Jessica found a way into the conversation, giving Emily a congratulatory hug as well. "Thank you," Hotch heard her say.

"Earth to Aaron," Rossi said.

Hotch snapped his head back and looked at Rossi. "Sorry. You say something?"

"Just wondering what's got you so…captivated."

"Nothing, really," Hotch said. "Kind of wondering what Emily and Morgan are talking about."

Rossi peered over. "No clue. Think there are any of those ginger snaps left?"

Hotch rolled his eyes when Rossi walked off. His joke was sounding less and less worth it as time went on. Then again, he couldn't imagine trying to get everyone's attention and making some grand announcement.

In the dining room, Garcia still toted around the baby, breaking off tiny pieces of her food and hand feeding her. She looked down when Henry tugged on her dress. "Yes, my love?" Henry just pouted and scratched at his neck. His cheeks were rosy. "Itchy sweater?" He nodded. "I love your mommy and daddy, but you look a little ridiculous. Let's go find you something else." She took the baby with her and Henry up to the boys' room, where Henry showed her the dresser drawer where his clean sweaters were.

"Honey bear, you're all out."

"Oh! Mommy washed some."

"Oh, okay. Are they in her room?"

"Uh-huh." Henry toddled out of his room and hung a right.

"Sweetie, that's your daddy's room. Mommy's room is this way."

"No, _this_ is Mommy's woom," Henry corrected her, pushing open Hotch and Emily's bedroom door. Befuddled, Garcia followed Henry in. Emily's dresser sat near Hotch's. The two of them couldn't have matched less if Hotch and Emily had tried. Other evidence that Hotch and Emily were sharing a bed was even more obvious. The bed was unmade and had clearly been slept in by two adults.

"Oh my goodness," she marveled quietly, her hand to her mouth.

Henry tugged on her skirt again and proffered a sweater that was more to his liking

"Ahh, that feels less itchy. Good. Arms up." Garcia put Charlotte down and watched her out of the corner of her eye.

"Auntie Penny!" Jack rushed into the room and hugged her around the legs. "I missed you."

"Oh, sweetie pie, I missed you too. Did you get lots of awesome toys for Christmas?"

"Yup!"

"Did you get that video game thing you wanted?"

"Uh-huh."

Knowing she was on a roll and that Jack would answer her next question without thinking, no matter what it was, she said, "Are your mommy and daddy both sleeping in here now?"

"Yup!" Jack immediately covered his mouth. "Oops."

Garcia giggled. "It's okay, pumpkin. Your little brother spilled the beans already. Kind of. So when did this happen? When did your mommy start sleeping in here instead?"

"Yesterday morning she was in here." Jack shrugged. "They kiss and say 'I love you' all the time now."

Garcia finished changing Henry's sweater and put a hand on her heart as her eyes watered up.

"Why are you sad?" Jack asked when Garcia plopped down at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, I'm not sad, sweetheart. I'm actually very happy. Sometimes big people cry when they're happy."

"Oh."

"Oh my gosh, there you are," Emily breathed, walking into the room. "Ohh," she added in a lower tone, realizing what Garcia must have learned from being in this room. "Boys, why don't you go back downstairs? Did Henry spill on his sweater or something?" Emily asked Garcia once the boys were gone.

"No, it was itchy. He told me he had more clean clothes in here. I wasn't snooping, I swear, but—"

"I'm so sorry. Obviously, you're clued in now, right?" Emily checked, sitting down next to Garcia.

"To you and Hotch _finally_ being together? Yeah, I figured when I saw your dresser and the bed and whatnot."

Emily could see that Garcia's tears were happy ones, but she couldn't tell if they still masked some sort of sadness or dejection. "I wanted to tell you right away, but Aaron wanted to wait to surprise Sean and Rossi because they've been snoopy and he wants to get back at them, but I should have told you the second it happened. I've been bursting to, trust me."

"Em, I'm not mad about when you did or didn't tell me. I couldn't be mad about anything right now. This…_finally_…sorry, I'm losing it." Garcia sniffled and dabbed a finger under each eye. She embraced Emily so tightly that she knew Emily probably couldn't breathe, but she didn't care. "Jack said it's just been a couple of days, right?"

"Yeah. The other night after our little double date or whatever you want to call it."

"Whatever you got me for Christmas, please take it back. This is all I need."

Emily cackled. "I love you. So much."

"I love you infinitely more. Scratch the present thing, though. I mean, you can still take it back, but there is something else I want." Garcia twisted and sat on one of her feet.

Emily took one of Garcia's hands in her own. "Yeah? What's that?"

Garcia took a deep breath. "You might want to cover your ears." She took a moment to let out a tiny, high-pitched scream, then covered her mouth in shame. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't help it, and you totally knew that was coming." Emily was laughing so hard she was almost crying, or perhaps she was simply crying happy tears and laughing over them. Garcia supposed it mattered not. "Okay, my Christmas wish is to hear every single detail. Every. Single. One. Can you give me that?"

"Sure. Where did the baby go?"

Garcia glanced around her side of the bed. "She's over here. Please begin your story. Remember, I want every detail."

—

Reid joined what looked to be like a rather uneventful conversation between Hotch, his brother, and Rossi, just for something to do. He didn't want to be a loner, so he at least decided to grab some food and drink and converse with the people he knew. Hotch appeared to be looking for someone as he tapped his fingers nervously on his glass, but Reid wasn't sure whom he sought. Just as Reid stepped in, Henry and Jack came down the stairs. "Hi, Henry," Reid said when his godson approached him specifically. "Want one of my cookies?" Henry nodded and gladly accepted a treat, then motioned that he wanted to be picked up. "Oof. You're getting big."

"Daddy," Jack said in a panic, tugging on his dad's pant leg. Hotch held up a finger to signify that he'd get to Jack in a moment, then rested his hand on his head. "Daddy. _Daddy_."

Hotch sighed and apologized to Rossi. "Are you okay?" he asked Jack somewhat impatiently.

"Uh-huh."

"Is everyone else okay?"

"Yeah…"

"Then why are you interrupting?"

"Be_cause_! Henry told Auntie Penny about you and Mommy even though he wasn't s'posed to."

Rossi's mouth twisted into a wicked grin. "Whatabout 'em, kiddo?" he asked, crouching over. "What did Henry tell Auntie Penny about your mommy and daddy?"

"I'm not allowed to tell."

"Thanks, Jack," Hotch said dryly. "Why don't you go find your mom? I'm sure she'd love to see you right now." Hotch rolled his eyes quickly as Jack walked away.

"What about you two?" Sean chimed in, giving his brother a playful punch on the shoulder.

Upset that the joke was now on him, Hotch searched for any way to gain the upper hand again. "Nothing."

"For a former lawyer, you can be a pretty shitty liar sometimes," Sean remarked.

"Prosecutors don't lie as much as defense attorneys. And watch your mouth," Hotch said calmly, nodding toward Henry.

Reid cleared his throat. "Are you and Emily…together?"

Hotch rubbed his stubbly chin and looked up at the ceiling. "Yes." Rossi and Sean didn't look all that surprised; it was more like suspicions were being confirmed than breaking news was being announced. Reid didn't even appear to be nonplussed. Hotch had half a mind to ask if there had been a pool going on at the office as to when he and Emily would just get together already. "But you two," he added, eying Rossi and Sean, "weren't supposed to find out from Jack."

"How were we supposed to find out?" Sean inquired.

Hotch felt utterly stupid now and needed a way out. He wasn't going to regain control over the situation when he was outnumbered three to one. In despair, he wondered where Emily might be.

"For as much as you guys make fun of my lack of social skills, I, number one, totally saw this coming, and number two, can see Hotch is rather distressed right now," Reid pointed out. "Is there a reason you're torturing him?"

"Because it's fun to see him squirm," Rossi answered, scrunching his nose and jerking his head as if to say that what Reid was asking was completely ridiculous.

"You're right," Sean said to Reid. "We _could_ be nicer."

"But we won't," Rossi quipped with a wink.

"Exactly," Sean said.

"You know, the last thing you need is a wingman," Hotch lamented to Rossi.

"Oh, come on, Aaron, I'm still on your side," Sean reassured his brother. "You're happy, right?"

"With Emily, yes. With you two, jury's still out," Hotch said.

"You're just peeved because you had some elaborate stunt planned and your kid ruined it," Rossi said. "But I'll lay off now. Congratulations. I know it's been something you've wanted for a long time."

"Thanks," Hotch said, trying to man up and be a good sport. Sure, things hadn't gone the way he'd planned, but in retrospect his plan sounded silly, and his friends and family were all clearly happy for him and Emily. This didn't change the fact, though, that all he really wanted right now was to be curled up with her somewhere, alone, in peace and quiet. The gathering had only been going on a couple of hours at most and he found his craving for her almost overwhelming. He supposed he'd been spoiled so far.

Hotch at least managed to find a seat next to Emily when everyone gathered in the living room to open the pile of presents under the tree that was just as big as the pile they'd cleared out that morning.

Save for Sean, the house had been cleared of guests by nine-thirty, but not without more congratulations, which amused Emily. It wasn't as if they had announced an engagement, yet everyone seemed to be treating them like they had.

"Garcia said our dressers don't match," Emily informed Hotch as she nuzzled up next to him on the couch later that evening after they'd made a small dent in the cleaning up the mess that their friends and family had left behind. Sean sat cross-legged in front of the television with Jack and Henry. Each of them had a controller, but Henry obviously hadn't a clue what he was doing.

"She's right," Hotch replied, turning to place a quiet kiss on Emily's temple as he closed his arm around her side.

"Jess didn't want to stay?" Emily asked.

Hotch didn't think he'd ever heard Emily call Jessica by her shortened name before. "She looked tired. I didn't try to fight her. This is all a little…different for her."

"She _seemed_ happy."

"She is. She's just got a different thought process about all of this, that's all. She needs a little more time."

"Okay," Emily said resignedly. She enjoyed simply existing next to Hotch for a bit while she watched Sean teach the boys how to work their game.

Though Emily and Hotch had exchanged gifts with all of their guests, they hadn't with each other yet; they had been planning on saving it for that night when they were alone. All they knew about one another's gifts was that they had been purchased the day before. They'd both openly admitted that they had been stumped, but still wanted to exchange gifts, so they had braved the mall and split up.

"It's getting late," Emily said to Hotch. "Two late nights in a row for them."

"Let them have fun."

"As long as you're okay dealing with their cranky butts tomorrow."

"I assume full responsibility. Just relax. You tired?"

"Exhausted," Emily said with a yawn. "You?"

Hotch held up his cup of coffee and took a sip. He offered it to Emily, but she shook her head. "What time is it, anyway?" she asked.

"Eleven."

"Oh, I didn't know it was _that_ late. They really need to get to bed."

"_You_ just want to go to bed," Hotch teased.

"True, but really. This is three hours past their bedtime. They can play with this silly thing all day tomorrow."

"Sorry to eavesdrop," Sean said, "but I have to leave early in the morning. Is it okay if they stay up with me a while longer? I'll tuck 'em in and everything."

Jack gasped and chucked his controller to the floor before running over to Emily. "Please, Mommy? Can we?"

"Please, _Mommy?_" Hotch said in disbelief. "Why not Daddy?"

"Because he's got me wrapped around his little finger better than he does you," Emily grumbled.

"You guys can feel free to turn in. Uncle Sean's got things under control," Sean insisted.

"You all right with that?" Emily asked, craning her neck up to eye Hotch pleadingly, crooking her forefinger underneath the collar of his sweater.

"I'll stay up just a little longer. You might want to take the little guy with you, though." Hotch pointed to Henry, who sat up with his chin now pressed to his chest. As soon as he fell asleep, he awoke with a jolt.

"Sounds good to me," Emily said after watching Henry do this three times. "Just in case I fall asleep before you come up…" She stretched her neck out for a soft peck on the lips; Jack had already gone back to his game upon hearing their conversation, so they had no audience. "Hey, you," she whispered to Henry, grabbing him gently from behind. "Ready to go to bed?" He nodded and let Emily pick him up. She bade everyone goodnight, requesting that Sean not leave in the morning without saying goodbye. She didn't bother trying to change Henry into pajamas; she simply laid him in bed and draped his covers over him. She was tempted to fall into bed without changing as well, but a day full of cookies, eggnog, and other junk left her jeans a little snug. She shut the door, made the bed to some extent, and as she changed, she wondered what Hotch would think or do were he to walk in on her half-dressed or not at all. He had seen her in various states of undress already, including once with absolutely nothing, but she feared that making it commonplace for him to watch her change her clothes would introduce an air of sexuality that they didn't need yet. Luckily, she got into her pajamas and under the covers before Hotch came up to bed. While she waited, not wanting to fall asleep without him, she replayed the day's events in her mind. As short as the comment had been, her father's remark about babies had been running through her mind all day.

The question of whether she wanted to have a baby with Hotch was preposterous. She did want that, and she'd dreamed about it for far longer than they'd even lived together. But the fact that they had three wonderful children already made her wonder if her wanting her own biological child was a selfish desire. Not only had she never once in her life dreamt of having three children, let alone four or more, but did wanting a child with Hotch mean that the three that they had weren't enough? And would she favor a child they had created together?

JJ had also crossed her mind several times. She missed JJ terribly. It didn't bring her to tears, though it had threatened to. She couldn't help but wonder how different her life would be if JJ and Will hadn't passed away. Would she and Hotch have mended fences? Would they be together?

Before she could obsess over these matters any further, Hotch let himself into the bedroom, peeling his sweater off as he did.

"Hey," she said with a suddenly sanguine smile. She'd missed having him to herself all day.

"Oh, you're still up," he said.

"And about to pass out. I just wanted some time with you first."

"Well, I'm all yours," Hotch said with a grin while he stepped out of his jeans, folded them and stowed them away in his dresser. He then hung his sweater up.

"Would you just come to bed already?" she begged, turning back Hotch's side of the covers and patting the mattress.

"All right, all right."

"No pants?"

Hotch chuckled as he climbed in clad in boxers and his undershirt. "You told me to hurry up. Besides, it got toasty in here last night. Mmm," he moaned, taking Emily in completely and resting his lips on her forehead. "Have a good time today?"

"It was nice. Awkward at times, or the entire time, but nice."

"You can say that again. I can't believe it was Henry who blabbed. That's normally Jack's job."

"Well, according to Garcia, Henry didn't _really_ blab. He brought her into our room for a sweater, not realizing Garcia would read into the additional furniture and the bed we were too lazy to make this morning."

"I see. Speaking of Garcia, was she thrilled?"

"There was screaming involved," Emily said, laughing warmly before stealing the first kiss she'd had since that morning that had lasted longer than a second. Even once everyone else was in the know about their relationship and they'd finally managed to be in the same vicinity as one another, they'd both shied up about public displays of affection and had kept it to touches only until everyone had left. Thankfully, no one had badgered them about it. "I missed you," she stated simply. "How am I going to make it all day at work once we go back?"

"Maybe we'll have to do lunch."

"I think we'll need to brown bag it for a while. I'm surprised Christmas didn't send us careening into bankruptcy."

"We're just fine." Wanting to end the daily briefing, Hotch made Emily's mouth unavailable with a kiss he'd been holding in all day. She posed no objection whatsoever to this turn of events, cupping his cheek and opening up to him before long. Things heated up to the point where Emily began to feel the itch again, though, so she gradually but with reluctance ended the kiss. "Merry Christmas," Hotch said.

"Merry Christmas to you, too." She took a deep breath and let it out with a sigh. "Hey, um, not tonight, but soon, we do need to have the baby talk. We are sleeping together and even though I think we're both on the same page in terms of wanting to take things slowly, you never know when we'll want to take the next step, or at least try, and we need to be on the same page about what we want, too."

"Why not talk about it now?" Hotch asked, unable to rid his brain of the vision of a very pregnant Emily lying on her side, their hands linked together over her belly. One daughter to worry about was enough. He envisioned a son.

"Because I'm dead tired. Let's go to sleep."

"Hang on," Hotch said abruptly. He rolled over and opened the drawer on his night stand. Reminded of the fact that they had yet to exchange gifts, Emily remembered and rolled the opposite way and opened the drawer on her own night stand, which matched Hotch's just as well as their dressers matched. She made a mental note to save up for new furniture next.

"Same time?" Emily asked once they'd swapped.

"Sure." They both sat up against the headboard and peeled away wrapping paper.

"I definitely pinned you for a jewelry guy," Emily noted with a laugh when she opened up a hinged box containing a thin gold chain with a small cross pendant. "I _love_ it," she said in awe, taking it out and examining the pendant up close. "Please tell me it's plated or something and you didn't spend too much on it."

"It's not plated, but don't worry about the price, okay? You're the woman, and I'm a traditionalist. Expect a lot of jewelry over the years. And you've been saying you wanted something smaller than what you have. You're lucky I didn't buy you diamond earrings instead." He had stumbled upon the perfect diamond _something_ and had purchased it on somewhat of a whim, but that was hidden away in a shoebox of old photo albums in the basement, to be taken out with the time came. "You should have seen the nasty look the saleswoman gave me when I asked for the smallest cross pendant she had."

"You are a very good listener. I love it, love it, love it. Okay, finish opening yours."

"You're a good listener, too. Far nicer than the one I had," Hotch said, impressed with a new beard trimmer he unwrapped. It wasn't the first time he'd gotten one for Christmas, but he was a practical man and always appreciated it. On cases, he had been known to shave twice a day at times. At home, this was never the case, but he had still managed to burn out his last trimmer in only a year. Not wanting to spend money on a high-quality one after wearing his last one out, he'd switched to a razor a couple of weeks ago.

"And just to be clear, I don't want you to use it quite yet," Emily said. "The stubble isn't killing me. It does make me want to jump your bones, which might be dangerous, but please keep it for a couple more days."

"I will…Wow, we're hilariously cliché," Hotch laughed as he closed in for yet another kiss. "Jewelry, beard trimmer…"

"We can try to be more creative next year. Unless no presents for the adults applies to us, too."

"We could say so, but I'd sneak off and get you something anyway."

"Then that settles it. Next year, we won't wait until Christmas Eve to buy for each other. And if we do, you're shit out of luck, because I'm never going shopping on Christmas Eve again," Emily said vehemently.

"Sounds like a plan."

"Hmm," Emily said, pondering as she sank back down under the cover and put her gift aside. "Do you think we could dig into that money that my parents and Sean and Jess gave us for the kids' college funds to replenish the checking account a little?"

"If only," Hotch said with a sigh. "But don't worry about money, seriously. We did just fine."

"I have no idea how."

Hotch didn't either. He knew that after his impulse purchase, his own savings was running a little lower than he liked. He wondered if they would ever get to a point where they shared only one checking and one savings account. He definitely wouldn't have been able to get away with his little stunt had that been the case now.

"You all right?" Emily asked as she turned out her lamp. Hotch followed suit.

"Perfectly fine."

"Something on your mind?" She backed up and cozied into Hotch's waiting arms.

"Just you."

**A/N: Please leave a review! What did you think?  
**


	91. Twice Denied

Hotch had a hard time navigating his way through the living room with it being covered in toys the boys had gotten for Christmas, both from Hotch and Emily and from extended family and friends. They weren't even playing with the toys right now; instead, they were glued to the television playing a video game. Hotch decided it was best not to fight it for the time being. He had just come downstairs from putting Charlotte down for a midday nap and saw Emily standing at the kitchen counter behind her laptop, looking horrified.

"What's wrong?" Hotch asked, circling around the counter and placing his hands on Emily's shoulders, his chin atop her head.

Normally, Emily hated when people read over her shoulder, but this was Hotch's business, too. "Just looking at our checking account. I know we agreed we'd budget but not itemize, but I can't help it."

"We stayed within budget," Hotch said, rubbing circles over Emily's shoulders. "Don't worry about how much we spent on whomever."

"I think we should budget a little less next year."

"We will. Remember? Only buying for the kids."

"Yeah," Emily said with a sigh. She relented and closed the computer. "Is the baby asleep?"

"Yup. What would you like to do?"

Emily listened to the clatter from the living room where the boys played. Then she thought about Charlotte, asleep upstairs. That made three children. She'd been thinking about the subject all morning, ever since she had told Hotch the night before that they needed to talk about their future in terms of children. It hadn't affected her sleep, perhaps because Hotch was right there with her, his arms around her, but she'd been feeling a little distracted all morning. Thankfully, the boys and their toys, combined with trying unsuccessfully to get Charlotte to take a step on her own, had kept her focused for the most part and had kept Hotch from detecting that anything was off kilter.

"Em?"

Emily sighed, knowing Hotch was waiting for her answer and probably now suspected something was wrong. "Can we have the baby talk?"

Hotch's heart fluttered and the image of a pregnant Emily wandered across his mind again. Her worried tone of voice only let that go on for so long, though.

"Right now?" he asked.

Emily turned to him and offered an apologetic smile. "I know it's weird timing, and to be honest I still don't know exactly where I stand, but it's been nagging at me all morning. The boys are distracted enough..."

"Let's at least sit in the dining room, then," Hotch said, guiding Emily gently in that direction. They angled two chairs toward one another. Hotch took hold of both of Emily's hands. "You said you're feeling uncertain. Maybe you should lay out what you're feeling so I don't bias your opinion."

"So _you're_ certain one way or the other?" Emily asked, worried even more now.

"Fairly, but don't worry about that. You need to decide what it is that you want before you put it up against what I want, all right? I don't want your decision to reflect what I want."

"It should, though. Having a baby is a mutual thing."

"Exactly. And both of us should want it, not just one of us, with the other pretending."

"So you _do_ want a baby," Emily concluded. "And I'm the deciding factor."

Hotch kicked himself for his mistake. "Please, just tell me what's got you conflicted."

"Fine," Emily breathed, squeezing Hotch's hands, just to let him know it wasn't he who was frustrating her, but the situation. "This is all going to sound silly to you—"

"No, it won't. But go ahead."

"On one hand, I want to have a baby with you. On the other hand, I feel like it's not right for me to want to have a baby with you."

"What would make you think that?"

"Because none of the children we have are biologically mine. For me to want to have a baby of my own makes me feel incredibly guilty. Like it's me saying that Henry and Charlotte and Jack aren't good enough because they aren't mine."

"You know that's not true. And so do I," Hotch said, putting a finger under Emily's chin, which had dropped to her chest as she spoke. "I know you love them with everything in you, and having another child wouldn't change that."

"What about the kids, though? How would they feel, especially when they got older? Like Mom and Dad just _had_ to have one that was biologically theirs? Like they weren't enough already?"

"If they ever felt that way, and I doubt they ever would, it would only be because they wouldn't understand how much we love them."

"Well, we should never have to explain that," Emily argued. "I don't ever want any of them to feel like we had to go have a child of our own because having three who aren't mine, two of whom aren't yours either, wasn't enough. I couldn't do that to them." Her face had lowered again as she tried to hide her watering eyes.

"Emily," Hotch said, picking her chin up again, "you know what?"

"What?"

"Number one, I love you."

She laughed shortly and felt her cheeks flush. No matter how many times he'd said it already, it still got to her. "I love you, too. Is that somehow related to number two?"

"Maybe. You're just getting a little misty-eyed and I felt like you needed to hear that."

Emily nodded gratefully and bit down on her upper lip. "I did. What's number two?"

"I think that you're over-thinking things. The fact that we have such a mixed family and that we're happy with that says a lot about our ability to make it even a little more mixed."

"Mixed in the wrong way, though. It would be one thing if we said we wanted to go _adopt_ a fourth child. But to have one of our own…"

"I honestly don't think there's a difference. I think the kids, once they got old enough to understand who is whose, and how they ended up in this family, and that we had only one child who was biologically ours, really wouldn't think anything of it. They might bring it up to use as ammo when they were mad at us, kind of like when Jack used the 'real mommy' line on you. Kids will always think of a way to make you feel terrible, and if we had another child together, that might be their way of doing that, sure. But I don't think they'd _actually_ believe that they were inadequate."

Emily shrugged and let a single tear fall. "Sorry," she said, hastily wiping it away.

"It's okay," Hotch insisted, wishing he'd been quick enough to wipe the tear away for her.

"I don't think I could risk letting any of the kids ever feel that way," Emily said with more finality. "Plus, four kids? I mean, I've always wanted kids. But one, maybe two. Three is already more than I bargained for. Can you imagine us with four?"

Hotch grinned. "I can. If three's already a lot, what's one more?" he said with a shrug.

"What if it's five? What if we were to have twins? Five kids, Aaron. _Five_."

"You know, you said you were conflicted, not that you pretty much had your mind made up. You're being a bit silly, don't you think?" Hotch chuckled. Emily recoiled and hid her hands.

"You said whatever I had to say wouldn't sound silly. I'm being perfectly reasonable. We have to think of these things. We can't just jump into this blindly."

"Are you saying you _do_ want to jump into this?" Hotch asked. He felt guilty for calling Emily silly, especially when he'd promised not to laugh at her reasoning, but the idea that she might be able to be persuaded distracted him. So far, Emily's reasoning, as one-sided as it was, hadn't gotten him down, hadn't robbed him of hope, and her last sentence gave him even more, but with a shake of her head, his heart broke.

"I _want_ to," she said, "but I don't think it's right, if that makes any sense. Actually, I know it doesn't make sense to you, but I just don't feel right. And now knowing that you _do_ want a baby makes me feel awful, and I'm so sorry."

"Don't worry about me," Hotch said, managing to get a hold of Emily's hands again. "Like I said, I don't want your decision to be influenced by what I want. This is a two-player game. If we're both not in it, then it's not right."

"Even if you don't fully understand my reasoning?" Emily asked.

Hotch stood up and took Emily with him. "Even if I don't understand your reasoning."

"I'm really sorry. I really, really am," Emily said as her body met flush with Hotch's.

"Don't worry about me. Who knows, maybe someday you'll change your mind," he said offhandedly.

"Aaron, please—"

"Okay, okay," Hotch said quickly, realizing his mistake. "I'll never pressure you to rethink this. I promise. End of discussion." Hotch had never imagined his visions being spoiled so quickly or effectively. He hadn't pictured his first few days in an official relationship with Emily to have bumps quite like this, either. Especially since they both had a couple more days of vacation from work, he'd expected a lot of sitting around, relaxing, enjoying one another's company—not finding out that they had different visions for their future. He was of the mindset, though, that nothing could come between them, not after the storms they'd already weathered. Even if Emily was no longer with child, lying next to him, in his mind's eye, she might still have a band around her left ring finger.

"Aaron?"

"Hmm?"

Emily took a deep, somewhat quavering breath and held it in. "Am I depriving you of too much? I mean, first, the sex, which will hopefully happen eventually, and now saying no to babies…Please tell me you still want to be with me."

Hotch thought it might be romantic and effective just to say right now that as long as she promised to marry him someday, he'd be perfectly happy, but he felt it was too soon for that. "Of course I still want to be with you. Don't ever think otherwise."

—

"Can I just say how much the first day back from vacation _sucks_?" Emily grumbled as she and Garcia found two seats at one of their favorite bars.

"Ah, at least you had a vacation, sweetheart. You only have two days back and then it's the weekend. We got Christmas and Christmas Eve, and that was it. We've been back all week."

"What about New Year's Eve? Do you get that off?"

"Negatory," Garcia answered, adjusting her top to show more cleavage and get more attention from the bartender.

"I thought we always had New Year's Eve off."

"No, ma'am. I think you just found a place to go get into trouble if we happened to be on a case."

"I think you're right," Emily said, smirking.

"Got any New Year's Eve plans yourself?"

Emily shrugged. "Probably not."

"Oh, come on, it's on a Saturday, you can live it up! Hire a sitter and go out."

"Maybe."

"So, how were your few vacation days with the new one and only?"

"Nice," Emily said with a distant smile.

"Penelope Garcia needs details, please."

"It was pretty lazy, pretty nice. Just watched the kids play with their new toys, mostly that stupid video game thing he insisted on."

"And at night?" Garcia asked, propping an elbow up on the bar and wiggling her eyebrows.

"Nothing too intense yet."

"I'll be nice and not tell you how boring you're being," Garcia said, waving a twenty-dollar bill to get the bartender to look over.

Emily laughed. "It's not boring to me. Or to him, which is great."

"Of course it is," Garcia said, laying a hand on Emily's knee. "You know I'm just teasing, right? Hot monkey love or not, I'm sure you two will remain ecstatic to be together."

"I know."

"Two margaritas, please," Garcia asked the bartender, who finally gave her the time of day.

"Make mine count, please," Emily said, holding her hand up.

"Bad day?" Garcia asked, swiveling her stool back to face Emily.

"Not a bad day, just long. Remind me never to start a relationship over Christmas vacation. I'm totally spoiled."

"I bet you thought you were going to die at work today."

"Just about," Emily affirmed.

"Well, then, why are you with me?"

"I went home and had dinner first."

"Did you make out?"

Despite Emily's less than perfect mood walking into the bar, she found herself laughing again. "Yes, right in the middle of making and serving dinner, we sucked face. Right in the middle of the kitchen."

"I would hope you did!"

"We get our alone time between the hours of eight-thirty and whenever we go to sleep."

"Lots of talking or snuggling or just making out like a couple of teenagers?"

Emily rolled her eyes; she couldn't deny that she enjoyed the attention. "A little bit of everything."

"What have you talked about?"

Emily knew she'd have to tell Garcia sooner or later about her (and, by default, Hotch's) decision not to try for children if the time ever came, and she had nothing else to use to procrastinate. That talk had left them both ill at ease about broaching any other topics, the only one of which Emily could think of was marriage. She preferred that in any case, as her romantic side far outweighed her practical side. She wanted to be surprised.

"Earth to Emily."

"What? Oh, sorry. Uh, we just talked about babies, actually. And before you get excited, we—well, I—decided against it."

After all of Garcia's fawning over Emily the past several months, after all the comments about happily ever afters and babies with dimples, Emily knew this news could be potentially heartbreaking to Garcia, but she didn't know how else to put it. She couldn't lie.

"No babies? Ever? What? Why?" Garcia pushed her glasses up her nose and looked genuinely crushed.

"I want to have a baby with him, I really do, but I don't think it would be fair to the other kids. I don't ever want them to feel like they weren't enough, or like we don't love them as much."

"Emily, that's the silliest thing I've ever heard. You're already a completely mixed family. Adding a Hotch and Emily baby would be like adding another color to a bag of Skittles. The more the merrier."

Emily shook her head and reached for the drink the bartender set in front of her. "Like I told Aaron, if we adopted a fourth or something, that would be one thing. But I think having a baby of our own says something I don't want it to say."

"Okay, well, I obviously disagree, but it's your body, not mine. What does Hotch think?"

Emily and Hotch hadn't gotten back to the topic, as Emily didn't want to touch on it again and Hotch had promised he wouldn't. It hadn't strained things as much as she had feared it would, but she had at a few points seen Hotch staring off into the next room, or at the wall, when normally he would be absorbed in her. "He was all for it. Having a baby. He admitted it indirectly. Sorry, I think I'm just PMSing," Emily said when tears wet her eyes. She rolled them back into her head and took a deep breath. "I know he's disappointed."

"Em, are you sure you think the _kids_ would feel like things weren't fair, or are you maybe just afraid that you'd favor a baby of your own over them? Do you think this is about how the kids would feel or how you would feel."

"I honestly don't know. I don't think I _could_ play favorites, but maybe subconsciously I would. Or maybe I'd love a baby of our own in a different way than I love the other three, which is just as unfair."

"Good thing you ordered a stronger drink, honey. It sounds like you need it. If you're really PMSing, then maybe you should take some more time to think this over. I mean, how long did you and Hotch talk about it?"

"For a few minutes," Emily admitted.

"Okay, well, as far as plans for future presidents go, that's not really long enough. I think you should open the forum back up when you're feeling better."

Emily shrugged halfheartedly and tipped back her glass. She knew she wasn't in the best mood at the present time, but she hadn't felt out of sorts the other day when she'd had the talk with Hotch.

"And you have to _tell_ him you're still open-minded, so he still has some hope," Garcia added.

"That wouldn't be fair. I really don't see myself changing my mind."

Garcia suddenly seemed to remember what had happened the last time she had pushed Emily too far. Not wanting Emily to snap at her again, she nodded concedingly. "Okay, well, is Charlotte walking yet?"

"No, no, no," Emily said. "If she was, I totally would've called you. She's standing on her own for a couple of seconds and then she falls down."

"Any day now, I bet. Is she walking alongside furniture and stuff?"

Emily nodded proudly. "Yeah. She's probably close. Tell me about Kevin. How is he?"

—

Hotch had the boys in bed by the time Emily got home. She found him up in their own bed with Charlotte sitting in his lap, wide awake and red-eyed well past her normal bedtime. Hotch greeted Emily with a warm smile when she walked into the room, and a kiss when she sat next to him on top of the covers. "What's she doing up?" Emily asked.

Hotch shrugged helplessly. "Screamed every time I tried to put her down."

"That's not like her. Not for months," Emily remarked, holding her arms out.

"Have a nice time with Garcia?" Hotch asked, rubbing Emily's thigh, getting rather close to the top and cupping the inside. Emily noticed but pretended not to.

"Yeah," Emily said truthfully. Once Garcia had agreed to lay the baby topic to rest, they had enjoyed catching up. "How were the kids? Besides this one, anyway." She looked down lovingly at Charlotte, who played with Emily's fingers. This made her long for one of her own even more, and it almost made her want to hand Charlotte back over to Hotch, just so she could stop thinking about it.

"Just fine," Hotch answered.

"You didn't let the boys play that game all night, did you?"

Hotch leaned away in guilt.

"Oh, come on, Aaron. They're gonna get addicted to that thing. They used to love playing outside and being active. What if they never go out in the back yard again?" She gave him a mostly joking glare and he chuckled.

"All right, all right. TV isn't a babysitter."

"We should limit to half an hour a day or something," Emily suggested.

"Sounds like a plan. Look, she looks ready to go again." Charlotte's eyes looked heavy. "Maybe she just wanted to see you."

Emily patted Hotch's knee. "The daddy's girl thing doesn't bother me, you know. If anything, it kind of makes me fall in love with you even more, every time she laughs at you or stops crying the second you pick her up. Plus, you're a total chick magnet with her. Don't ask me why _that_ part doesn't bother me."

"Why would I want to be a chick magnet? I only want one chick," Hotch whispered in Emily's ear before crossing his arm over her stomach.

Emily gently pried away Hotch's hand and went to put Charlotte to bed before he could get any more playful than that. When she returned, she walked into the closet to change, leaving the folding door cracked so they could talk.

"We should do lunch together tomorrow," Hotch said.

"If we brown bag it and eat in one of our cars, sure. You _did_ pack a lunch today, right?"

"I will tomorrow, I swear."

"You know we can't afford to keep eating out all the time."

"I know, I know." Hotch got rid of his jeans and sweater and brushed his teeth while he waited for Emily. He didn't climb back into bed until she hit the lights, brushed her own teeth, and climbed in herself. "I missed you tonight. And all day," he told her.

"I missed you too. We're spoiled, you know. We're way too used to seeing each other all day." Hotch lay on his back and Emily laid her chest upon his, kissing him through his t-shirt and then resting her cheek there. Her hand scratched lazily at his chest.

"Guess we'll have to get used to this being our only alone time," Hotch said.

"You've been a parent for six years. You already knew that," Emily pointed out.

"Good point."

"And this is only our alone time when someone's not sick or fighting or what have you. So maybe six days a week if we're lucky."

Hotch's hands were traveling up and down Emily's back, leaving a trail of pins and needles that elicited from Emily a satisfied moan that rolled through Hotch's chest. "We're lucky right now," he said surreptitiously, though no one was in the room with them.

"We are…" Emily agreed, moving her arm to the other side of Hotch's chest and propping herself up. Hotch's lips were parted slightly, gazing up reverently at Emily before their lips converged. Emily started out hovering over Hotch's body, but as the kiss lengthened, grew more intense, she swung a leg over him and tested the effect of her body weight. He posed no objection that she could detect, so she rested almost completely on top of him. His hands began to wander, as they often did, but for the first time since they'd gotten on the responsible track, his hands meandered down below her waist. Emily withdrew from the kiss only for air, not protesting the placement of Hotch's misbehaving hand, and went in for more of his lips and tongue. She felt his palm glide along her hip, then completely skip over the curves he'd grabbed handfuls of before, during less accountable times, in favor of her thigh yet again. He grasped the back of it, his index finger creeping to a place that made her ache.

She hummed nervously as she backed away from the kiss yet again. Hotch didn't pick up on the uncertainty, taking her moan as one of gratification and slipping his finger up further. She hid her face in the crook of his neck, letting her hot breath jet across his skin, deliberating letting him do what he wanted, knowing that they were at least in agreement that it was too soon for sex. From behind, his fingers rubbed as much as they could through her clothing, firmly enough to make her shudder against him. In both of their pre-relationship encounters, he'd neglected that particular area, or simply hadn't gotten there. The sensation of someone else's fingers on her, even if her clothing was still completely intact, was something she hadn't felt in a long time. She tried to block from her mind images of when that had last happened for her, because it hadn't been pleasant.

"You like that?" Hotch said somewhat incoherently when Emily's hips pushed reflexively and with force against his. He tried his very best not to let his body react to that. Emily just sighed delightedly against his neck, prompting him to move his hand from behind her to between their bodies. "Can I touch you?" he asked, his fingers flirting with the waistline of her soft flannel pants.

Emily's judgment came back to her much too swiftly for her liking. "Mm-mm," she mumbled, backing away, rolling off of him. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't. I want to, but…"

Hotch wet his lips and took and released a deep breath before rolling to his side to face Emily. "Are you having a flashback or something?"

Emily shook her head hastily. "No, no. I just—we're finally in this place where we're happy, and it's because we agreed to take things slowly."

"Okay," Hotch said, focusing his energies on cooling himself down, calming his heart, among other body parts. "That's perfectly fine."

"And I think that given what we talked about in terms of protection, we need to wait until we've got protection handy before we even start fooling around. It's dangerous enough that we're in a relationship and sharing a bed. I have a, uh, physical next week, so I can get on the pill. And you know what you need to do."

"Yeah." Hotch's eyes wandered to behind Emily's as he tried to give himself a cold shower.

"Hey," she said quietly, cupping his cheek and getting his attention. "On the bright side, it did feel nice. Really nice. And I wanted to. It had nothing to do with…you know…that."

"Good." Stilled to his satisfaction, Hotch moved closer and placed a kiss innocently on Emily's forehead.

**A/N: Please leave a review; it only takes a moment. What did you think? **


	92. Resolutions

**New Year's Eve 2011**

"You sure about this?" Hotch asked Emily as he set up the video camera.

"Why would I not want Charlotte to walk?"

"Because life is about to get a little more hectic," Hotch said with a smirk. "All right, let's see what she does."

"Now that we got the camera out, watch her freeze up," Emily said. "You call her."

"But I have the camera."

"Let's switch, then." Emily held out a hand and took the camera from Hotch. He walked to the other side of the living room and got down on his knees to sit on his feet. Emily tried her best not to draw any attention toward herself, only wanting Charlotte—who wore white footie pajamas and braced herself against the coffee table, bouncing—to pay attention to her target across the room.

At the words "Come to Daddy," Emily's eyes fogged up a little. She smiled ear-to-ear and watched as Charlotte eyed her dad intently and let go of the coffee table with one hand. "Come on," Hotch urged. "You can do it, Charlie. Come to Daddy."

Hotch had been a little too optimistic on the distance, and Charlotte was a little too excited—she only made it about halfway before she tripped over her own foot. Applause and screams erupted from both adults while the baby sat on the floor and looked at them, pleased with herself.

"What's going on, Daddy?" Jack asked, rubbing his eyes at the top of the stairs. On a normal night, Charlotte would have been in bed long before now, but she had been looking promising on the walking front all evening; neither Hotch nor Emily had had the heart to put her to bed.

"Charlie just took her first steps," Hotch said, walking over to scoop Charlotte up.

"Sorry we woke you up, sweetie." Emily looked on as Jack amble back to his room while Hotch rewarded Charlotte with a kiss and verbal affection that was enough to give Emily cavities. Emily watched in relative silence as Hotch got Charlotte to repeat her feat a few times before she grew bored and paid more attention to picking a ball of fuzz from the carpet.

"I think she's done for the night," Hotch said with a contented sigh. He glanced over at Emily, who smiled back and waved goodnight to the baby before Hotch took her up to bed. She was re-watching the video on the camera for the third time when Hotch made his way back downstairs, into the kitchen for some supplies, and back into the living room.

"Everything okay?" he asked casually as he set up some champagne flutes, a plastic mixing bowl full of ice with a champagne bottle nested inside of it, and an assortment of chocolate bonbons.

"Perfectly okay. Everything's perfect," Emily assured Hotch as he made himself comfortable next to her. She angled the camera toward him and pressed play when he nodded.

"Is that really what my voice sounds like?" Hotch asked near the end.

"Yup."

"And you still love me?"

"I love you _because_ of your voice, not despite it," Emily said, shutting off the camera now that the video was over. She turned to nuzzle into Hotch and kissed his regrettably cleanly shaven jaw.

"And I love you despite your voice," Hotch cracked, his surprisingly high-pitched laughter ringing merrily throughout the room when Emily smacked him in the side. Once his laughing died down, he began littering kisses along the neckline of Emily's brown sweater. She rolled her head back and happened to glance at what Hotch had brought out from the kitchen. "We're so classy with our plastic champagne bucket—no, bowl," she said, giggling.

"It was all we had clean," Hotch said, laughing right along with her.

"I know, I know. Ooh, are those bonbons?" she said, gasping.

"Possibly…"

"You know what I've wanted all day long today? Chocolate. I wasn't even _hungry,_ but I wanted chocolate so badly and I forgot to let you know before you went shopping, and then I forgot to text you, and then I started to think it was all a plan that God had set in store to make sure I didn't get any chocolate. I've clearly been going crazy. Do you have any idea how much of a hero you are right now? I'm not even being overdramatic."

"So I don't need a badge and gun to be a hero? I can just wield chocolate?"

"Any day of the week."

"Then allow me." Hotch reached over for a bonbon and offered it to Emily at her lips. She smiled and parted them, biting off half. She didn't moan like she wanted to; she simply let her eyes drift shut and let the velvety chocolate melt and coat the inside of her mouth. When she opened her eyes, she saw Hotch sucking the melted chocolate off one of his fingers while he ate the other half of the bonbon with much less thought.

"That was heavenly. Thank you, baby," she purred.

"_Baby_?" Hotch asked with a smirk.

"I'm not into pet names with lovers, but I might slip occasionally. Like when you rescue me with chocolate."

"Did you have a bad day?" Hotch asked, leaning forward and moving things out of the way to make room for their feet. He brought the plate of bonbons with him when he sat back down, handed it to Emily, and pulled her legs over his lap. "I was with you all day. You didn't seem down."

"No, I didn't have a bad day. I'm just insanely hormonal right now. Practically bipolar. I don't normally PMS this badly…sorry, over-share."

Hotch grinned. "You snore in my ear and I've tasted your morning breath. No such thing as over-share anymore."

"I do _not_ snore." Emily's eyes grew serious as she bored holes into Hotch's.

"Everyone snores," he said matter-of-factly. "Just a matter of how long and how loud."

Emily cringed. "How bad is it?"

"Hasn't kept me up too long." Hotch offered her a smile and a tender, lingering kiss before taking hold of one of her feet.

"I get a foot rub, too?" she asked as he slipped off her sock. "I haven't been all that nice to you this week. I'm not sure I deserve it."

"Are you serious?" Hotch asked, his mouth downturned as he glanced at her quickly.

"With the whole…you know…stopping you in bed, and the _baby_ thing…I felt like I kind of burst your bubble with that one. A really big important life-changing bubble. And you haven't seemed too down about it or anything. I'm not accusing you of wallowing. If anything, you've been a really good sport about it. But—"

"Don't worry about me," Hotch said, almost too quickly for Emily to take his word. "I'm perfectly happy either way. I'm perfectly happy right now with a family of five. Even though I don't really agree with your point, I won't argue it, because it's still a valid point. If you're afraid of that sort of thing happening, then maybe some sort of self-fulfilling prophecy's already formed, and things might happen that way. Either way, just know that I'm here forever. No matter what."

Emily leaned her head back against a throw pillow at the end of the couch and gazed bemusedly up at Hotch. He hadn't said anything about her apology in regards to stopping him in bed. Did that mean anything? Was his ego bruised over that, was he annoyed with her, or growing impatient, or was she giving herself far too much credit in that department? Perhaps he _was_ perfectly happy right now, even in terms of what went on behind their bedroom door.

"What is it?" he asked.

Emily took a moment to transform her thoughts into words, not sure exactly whether she should harp on the sex issue, uncertain whether it required attention at the moment. "I just don't know where I'd be without you. Honestly. And it kind of scares me. I don't think there's anyone else in the world who would be so patient and put up with all my problems and drama."

"That's love, no?"

"I guess you could put it that way. Please, come up with some major problems soon so I can pull you through them."

"What about my blood pressure?"

"Pssh. You did that on your own."

"Hey, now, you took the salt shaker out of my hands more times than I could count, even when I hated you for it. And you got the whole family eating better so I didn't have to go it alone. And you made sure I got my exercise."

"You have enough self-discipline to have done those things without me."

"Being away from the BAU has weakened me a little," Hotch admitted. "And don't forget all the times you were there for me when Foyet attacked me, through Haley's death, even after that. You were even there for the divorce process, which I think most of the team thought I was fine handling on my own. I don't know if I could've gotten through all of that by myself. Not coming out the other side in the same shape, anyway. After all that you've done for me, I'm happy to do what I can now."

Emily stared down at her plate of bonbons while she pondered this. While she _had_ readily been there for him under all the circumstances he was describing, she couldn't help but remember that her motives—at least during and after the Foyet ordeal—hadn't been completely selfless. She was in such a self-deprecating mood at the moment that she couldn't help but bring that to Hotch's attention. "You know that for most of that, I wanted to be there for you mostly because you were my best friend and I cared about your well-being, but also because I thought there—"

"I know. And I wanted something more, too, Emily. You know that. I just wasn't ready. No matter your reasoning, you were still there for me, and that's something I've never forgotten. So don't feel so guilty about going through a rough patch, all right?"

"Pretty long rough patch," she muttered, but Hotch glared at her. "Okay, okay." She tugged on Hotch's upper arm, motioning that she wanted him to scoot toward her. "Rain check on the foot rub? I'd rather be close right now if that's all right."

"Sounds good to me."

Emily moaned comfortably as she settled into Hotch's side and hugged his middle. "I love you."

"And I love you. Hey, any New Year's resolutions? We have an hour left."

She drew in the last of his cologne and enjoyed his scent while she thought. "Hmm…would 'defeat my past' be a bad one?"

"Why would that be bad?"

"I dunno," Emily murmured. "It's not putting too much pressure on myself, is it?"

"Well, keep in mind, you have the entire year, and defeating your past can take any number of forms."

"Well, I've already stopped having flashbacks, mostly thanks to you, of course."

Hotch rolled his eyes and cupped one of Emily's knees firmly. "And to yourself, and to your therapist."

"And to antidepressants."

"Why are you giving yourself such a hard time?" Hotch asked, looking down at Emily but only getting a view of the top of her head. He kissed her there. "You're a lot stronger than you're making yourself out to be."

Emily knew arguing with Hotch on this point would be an exercise in futility and that she would eventually sound like she was fishing for compliments. "How else have I defeated my past, do you think?"

"You finally trusted me. Although, to be fair, you'd trusted me for quite a while and then I walked away. So I guess what I should say is that you finally trusted me _again_."

"That better not have been some sort of apology," Emily said flatly. "You got my forgiveness a long, long time ago and I meant it. I think in the long run you did the right thing by putting some distance between us, you know. I mean, if we had started a relationship when you weren't ready, we probably would have ended up in worse shape somehow."

"Have a bonbon," Hotch said simply, reaching blindly for the plate in Emily's lap and picking out a chocolate.

"This conversation getting a little too serious for your liking?" Emily asked apologetically, opening her mouth for a bite.

"Perhaps. We were having a nice time, and then…"

"And then I started arguing," Emily said, breaking her mother's cardinal rule and talking with her mouth full.

"Not so much arguing…in any case…"

"Back to chocolate," Emily said, taking the other half of the bonbon and hand feeding it to Hotch. "Let it melt in your mouth. God, these are good." She palmed his cheek and reached up to give him a much-needed peck on the lips.

Hotch let the treat dissolve before he spoke. "You're not gonna complain about how expensive these must've been?" he teased.

"I don't think I could complain about anything right now," Emily said truthfully. She wanted to outstretch her neck and kiss him again with much more ferocity, but she didn't know if and when she'd be able to stop herself. She was so utterly smitten with him at the moment that it wasn't even funny. "Do _you_ have a New Year's resolution?"

"I think I might've put on five pounds between Halloween and Christmas..."

"If you have, I can't tell."

"My jeans can," Hotch said, chuckling.

"Whatever," Emily said dryly, "losing holiday weight gain shouldn't be a valid resolution choice. I love your body and I think your jeans are lying. Pick something else."

"You're putting me on the spot," Hotch griped, throwing his head back. "Come back to that later, maybe?"

Emily smooth circles over Hotch's stomach, which she still swore was firm enough. "Of course. If you can't think of one, I have a few ideas for you."

"Such as?"

"I'll let you think first," Emily said.

"No, tell me."

"Okay. Number one, shave less."

"Something tells me this is more of an Emily's wish list than anything else."

She giggled and continued. 'Umm, number two, wear that ass-hugging pair of jeans more often."

"Okay, I think I might go with that one," Hotch said with mock seriousness. "Wait, which pair of jeans is that?"

"The pair you're wearing right now."

"Ah. Any more ideas? Just in case I change my mind?"

"Nope, I think we'll stop there."

Hotch grinned and reached over for Emily's discarded sock. He slipped it back onto her foot for her. "Times Square stuff, surf channels, or watch a movie?"

"How about…watching Charlotte walk again?" Emily suggested, reaching out for the camera.

"For an hour?"

"Or until we can open that bottle of champagne," Emily answered. She turned the camera on and started up the video. They replayed it a few times, and eventually, it dawned on Emily that this would be the only time she would get to see a child of hers—no matter how it was hers—take its first steps. Charlotte would be the last one to accomplish _every_ feat for the first time. Emily supposed that realization would hit Hotch soon, too, if it hadn't already. She hoped for his sake that it never would, and she hoped for her own sake that he would either change her mind or she could feel strong enough in her resolve not to want him to.

—

Over the next hour, the plate of bonbons gradually found itself empty, mostly thanks to Emily, as Hotch didn't have a taste for chocolate beyond a few bites. She remained curled up impossibly close to him—any closer and she might as well have been perched on his lap—while they watched a favorite episode of Seinfeld they had stumbled upon. Five minutes before the final countdown and the ball drop, which Hotch insisted on watching, Hotch began the task of opening the bottle of champagne; he now wished that with just the two of them, he'd thought to get them each a miniature bottle instead one full-size bottle. Champagne was either going to go to waste, or they might be going to church in the morning with hangovers.

"Think we should open it in the kitchen?" Emily suggested.

Hotch shook his head. "Never seen me open a bottle of champagne?"

"Mm-mm," Emily said, sitting forward and resting her elbows on her knees. "Am I in for a treat?"

"Never spilled a drop before," Hotch bragged.

"Never given anyone a black eye, either?"

Hotch shot Emily a playful grin and started unwrapping the foil. Emily took the remains off the coffee table and wadded them up while Hotch unscrewed the cage.

"Ready?"

"Ready," she said.

Hotch turned the bottle in one direction, the cork in another, stopping when the cork popped and champagne bubbled out the mouth of the bottle and all over his hands. "Damn it."

"Never spilled a drop in your life, huh?" Her infectious laughter drove Hotch crazy in a very nice way as he brought the wetter of his hands to his mouth to suck off the champagne.

"Mm-mm, let me." Emily reached for that hand and Hotch let her take it, watched as she brought it to her lips and laid a kiss on his knuckles, her tongue darting out from between her lips.

"As much as I'd love to let you lick champagne off of me, I think it's bad luck to drink it too soon."

"That and you hate being sticky," Emily said, knowing that about him.

"Exactly. Be right back."

Hotch rinsed his hands and wrists with cold water, hoping the water would have the same effect on his imagination. He was sure Emily had meant no harm in the gesture; she had to have seen it as playful, not explicitly sexual.

He couldn't afford to let his mind wander to those places right now. Indeed, the other night had proven that he was able to stop when needed, to be patient and understanding, but they hadn't gotten very far. They had both been fully dressed. Did he have it in him to stop again? He reminded himself that he'd finally given himself permission to enter this relationship because he had faith in himself and his ability to control his body and his temper, but being here, being tested, gave him an entirely new outlook he had naively not expected.

The more he tried to process these things, the more salient the sexual air of things became, the more detail with which he remembered the feeling of Emily's lips and tongue on his knuckles, the grinding of her hips against him, the heat between her legs, the soft skin of her stomach, where his fingers had played until she'd put things to a stop.

He wasn't quite sure what to do with himself when Emily called from the living room that they were cutting it close. He made it back to his seat just in time to take his champagne from Emily, who'd poured it in his absence, and begin watching the countdown again.

"Gonna stick with the jeans for your resolution?" Emily asked, swirling her glass and watching the bubbles play.

"I think so. You?"

"Defeating my past sounds good, though it's kind of vague, and vague goals usually aren't met, because how do you meet a goal you haven't defined?"

"Then define it," Hotch said, taking Emily's left hand in his right and interlacing fingers with her. For some reason that had not a thing to do with a giant crystal ball falling over two hundred miles away, Hotch's heart threatened to tear its way free from his chest.

"Hmm. I would like…" Emily stopped and sighed, staring at the television. Forty-five seconds to go. "…I would like to be intimate with you. And before you say I'm putting too much pressure on myself, I'm giving _that_ a broad definition. Even if it turns out I'm unable to go the whole nine yards, I'll at least want to have tried, and find something that we _can_ do together." She eyed him with caution and from an angle.

"Makes my resolution sound pretty pathetic."

Emily turned fully toward him and shook her head. "My resolution is to make you feel good. Yours is to make me feel good. Trust me, those jeans do the trick."

"Fifteen seconds. To the start of a great year," he said raising his glass.

"And a great family." With eyes locked, the clinked glasses and each took a sip, never breaking eye contact.

"I don't remember the last New Year's kiss I had," Emily reflected when Hotch came nose-to-nose with her.

"You used to go out on New Year's Eve all the time."

"I don't kiss strangers, though. Peck on the cheek's the best they'll get."

"And what about me?" he asked, the breath from his words wafting across her upturned lips.

Emily replied with a kiss controlled but not unloving in origin, which grew into something much more fervent as the screaming from the television erupted into sheer pandemonium. Emily's body did much the same, alarms firing off every square inch of skin, even on the surfaces that Hotch's hands didn't touch, though in time, those areas numbered few. With no verbal accord, they both set aside their glasses to forget every bit of their surroundings save for the other person.

The kiss reached a certain point where hands were groping, breaths were labored, Emily was straddling Hotch's lap, and neither one of them would have felt comfortable with an audience, so Hotch broke it off, leaning back into the couch and took in some air.

Though Emily laughed breathily and practically buried her face in Hotch's chest, her mind was upstairs. She couldn't decipher why, and she was suspicious it was a mixture of reasons and she just couldn't assign them weights, but she saw them making love, and it seemed more real than it ever had. Did she want to do it for herself, to get a head start on her resolution and maybe knock it out on day one? Or was it more for Hotch? If it was for Hotch, she liked to think that it was out of pure love and not guilt that she let him crawl over her in her mind's eye and finally complete the union of the flesh.

She angled her head upward again and rested her chin on his shoulder. Even though she knew that no matter the fate of that night, they needed to get to a more private place, she nibbled on his neck anyway. To her delight, she didn't need to utter a word, didn't need to ask him a thing.

"When I went shopping today…" he said somewhat timidly before snatching up her lips, his thumbs indenting her cheeks.

"Mm-hmm," she hummed, trying to encourage him, let him know she was on the same page and she knew exactly what he was going to say. He didn't continue, though, because apparently taking even half a second to communicate was too much. Now she had to do the talking. "Condoms?"

He laughed, his body shaking hers a bit. She took this as a yes.

**A/N: **_**Please**_** leave a review. :)**


	93. Cute Enough to Make Up for the Bad Jokes

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**

The champagne was put away, except for the glasses they had topped off and brought upstairs with them, figuring that if the entire bottle went flat despite being stoppered, they at least had their one glass apiece.

Although it had seemed to Emily like it had been agreed upon downstairs that there would be an attempt of some sort tonight, she knew better than to think they could tear at each other's clothing, rushing through everything without stopping to communicate. How many times had that plan worked for them?

So instead, she stepped into the closet as usual and put on some pajamas (at least making sure she wore something nice, a red silk set consisting of a tank top and shorts) and completed her other nightly rituals, as did Hotch, who she just assumed was following her lead. The cool-down period was long enough for her to think about things more thoroughly than she would have been able to with Hotch's hands roaming her body, his tongue twisting in her mouth.

She had reached her decision by the time both she and Hotch were sitting in bed, their legs under the covers, each with their champagne in hand. Hotch seemed more interested in her than in his champagne, though, taking only a tiny sip before slinking an arm around her back and laying a teasingly gentle kiss on her neck. "What's on your mind?" he asked, being considerate and not letting things escalate beyond slow, shallow kisses along her shoulder. He knew anything else would be too distracting.

"Just thinking about whether I really want to try tonight," Emily said, assuming that Hotch was under the impression something was going to happen, and now.

Dutifully, Hotch removed his lips from her skin (making her wish she'd gone five more seconds without answering) and sat up straight. "And?" he asked as blankly as he could.

"I really want to. We just…can't rush it. I mean, we at least have condoms, so if it happens, then great, but maybe we should just be careful not to operate under the assumption that that's where we're even going. That way if I have to stop, we're not as disappointed."

"That sounds like a good way to go about things," Hotch said, taking another sip of his champagne as Emily did.

"And I know this sounds stupid, and I probably won't like it either, but can you just tell me what you're doing before you do it? Like you did a few nights ago. That made me feel really…safe, and less afraid to say no."

"Of course. But can you promise me one thing?" Hotch asked, setting his champagne aside.

"What is it?"

"Even if I'm an idiot, and I forget to slow down or talk to you, if I do something you don't like, or if you start feeling the least bit anxious, even after we've agreed on where we're going, tell me to stop. I'll listen, I swear. And like I said going into this, I have faith that I can stop without a display, without being angry. This doesn't define our relationship. So please don't be afraid of how I'll react. I'll try and be aware of how you're feeling instead of just relying on you to speak up. This isn't just your job. It's mine, too. And…even if it's something we've done before, tell me if it doesn't feel right tonight. Or any night. Like your therapist said, it's not always forward or even sideways motion. Sometimes it might be backwards."

"Of course. Thank you for…well, not playing along, but you know what I mean." Emily's lips turned up slightly as she leaned in for a short kiss. "Now that we've dissected it like a frog…"

"Hey, if that's what it takes," Hotch said, sliding his body under the covers and let out a contented sigh, not trying to pressure Emily to come down with him until she was ready. He let a lazy arm fall over her lap while she drank her fill of champagne; she eventually joined him. "Did you by chance lock the door?" he asked as he watched her hair bunch up between her head and the pillows.

"Mm-hmm." Emily's body, which had truthfully been a little chilly before she'd slid under the covers, warmed instantly with the addition of Hotch's careful lips to her own. With a series of brief kisses and the rolling of his body over hers, he melted her into the mattress. She meant to run her fingernails lightly up his back, but she held to him more tightly than she planned, prompting him to swing a leg over her.

She'd expected it to hurt, as it had been ages since her last time, and she was correct. However, the pain eventually subsided and she was able to enjoy herself, to enjoy Hotch. She let her mind wander away, blissfully absent for a moment.

Then there occurred the perfect storm—distraction, poor timing, and the wrong words. She had dissociated herself from the rendezvous just enough to analyze it, which she knew now she shouldn't have done. Hotch's "God, you feel so good" was an of course inadvertent quotation of someone Emily hadn't even been thinking about, but now the original speaker's face appeared clearly in her mind, and she wasn't connected enough with Hotch to reel herself back in before she was in the concrete room, hearing those words spoken over and over again, but not in Hotch's voice. Everything seemed to slow down, which wasn't a typical feature of a flashback for her, but then she realized it was her body in particular that was sensing this. It wasn't a part of the flashback at all.

"Are you okay?"

That certainly hadn't been a phrase she'd heard while she'd been missing, not even in a mocking tone. No, Hotch was saying it.

And then everything stopped moving, stopped pulling. She could still see the concrete room, her captors' faces, the things they did to her, but she could at least hear Hotch's voice now. He said her name a few more times, but it sounded like it was over some sort of intercom and she couldn't think of a way to answer. She felt a rough hand along her face, not sure whose it was. Then she heard Hotch promise that he would be right back. The minute, or ten, or twenty that he was gone were scarier but at least less confusing. She only existed in one place now, and even though it was a place she hadn't visited in a while, even though it was a place she never wanted to call on again, at least it made sense. With nothing in the real world to hold on to, and with so little resistance still built up to the episodes since she hadn't had one in so long, she slipped away, not losing consciousness but definitely losing full awareness for a time.

She relieved the nightmare in real time, not in a series of flashbulb images and shortened scenes. This made it even harder for her to separate herself from the episode, to ground herself in the real world. Help came from an outside source. A shocking cold feeling overwhelmed her right hand, then her left. Her eyes shot open and she saw Hotch, more terrified than she could recall ever having had seen him.

"Emily? Emily."

She took three deep breaths before being able to speak. "I'm sorry," she moaned as the images played in the background, behaving as well as they would, at least leaving her free enough to ground herself with one foot.

"No, no, no. It's okay. Here," Hotch whispered, taking the bowl of ice away once Emily's hands started to tremble and pulling the sheets up to her shoulders and handing them to her. He followed with the blankets. "Can I get you anything else?" he asked, moving a damp strand of hair off of her cheek. "Do you want your clothes?"

Emily screwed up her face in an effort to ward off the images; she nodded. "Something warmer, though, please?"

"Sure." She vaguely heard Hotch rifling through her dresser drawers. He came back in no time with sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and clean underwear.

"I'll shut my eyes so you can get dressed," Hotch said, sitting at the foot of the bed.

"Thanks," she breathed, unraveling herself from the bedclothes and trying not to think about how her captors had left her to change just like Hotch was, although they usually watched. "I'm done," she announced, standing beside the bed, unsure of what to do with herself.

Hotch stepped toward her and tested touching her shoulder. "Are you still having…?"

She nodded and walked into his arms, knowing that he'd known the answer to his question already, and that his real question was whether he was allowed to hold her. "I'm so sorry. That was completely my fault. I started thinking too much and I disengaged and I just…" She shrugged and burrowed her face into his shoulder.

"Please don't blame yourself, Em." He sounded like he was crying. Emily just sighed against him and he squeezed her firmly. "Was there a trigger?"

"No. It just…" Emily couldn't imagine telling Hotch he'd been the trigger. He didn't need to be blaming himself, either. "I don't know. It just happened." She knew that at some point in time, she might need to come clean about this little lie, but it was necessary for the moment. "Did I pass out or something?" she asked, leading the way back to bed. "No, you just looked…out of it." Hotch let her go. She just now realized he had his bathrobe on and was walking back to his dresser for some clean pajamas of his own. "I'll be right back, okay?"

Emily scooted to the middle of the bed, covering herself up and trying to focus on the sounds issuing from the bathroom. Hotch came back soon enough, hanging his robe on a hook and taking something out of its pocket. She cozied up to him instantly when he crawled in next to her.

"This was on the counter," he said, turning the camera on. "I saw it when I went down to get ice."

Emily didn't know quite what to say, but she knew she needed the distraction right now, and that there was probably nothing better to distract her than watching Charlotte walk again. "How many steps was it?" she asked during their fourth viewing. "We never counted, did we?"

"I think the most she took was six."

"No, I think it was seven," Emily said, starting the video over.

"Wanna bet?" Hotch asked playfully.

"I'm not gambling on a baby." Emily grinned and watched with Hotch one more time, for a moment forgetting that she had even been having a flashback. The moment was short-lived, but she was still grateful she could have it.

"The seventh one was when she tripped. That doesn't count," Hotch insisted.

"Really? Are you going to go down the hall and tell her that right now?"

Hotch chuckled and rested his chin on top of Emily's head, squeezing her shoulder. "How's the flashback? Almost over?"

"I think so. I'm…I know you're going to want to strangle me for apologizing—"

"You're right."

"—but I need to anyway. I'm sorry. I wish it would've happened in the beginning instead, just so it didn't have to, I don't know, ruin a perfect moment."

"I can't really process your apologies, Emily," Hotch murmured, kissing her hair. "They don't make any sense. You can't control your flashbacks, not as much as you think you should be able to, anyway."

"I think I kind of asked for this one in a way. I was over analyzing things." When Hotch didn't answer, Emily rotated to face him. "What?" He was looking at her in amusement.

He just rolled his eyes at her and slid down the pillows. "We got to make love. Even if we didn't get to finish, we got to start. To me, that counts for a lot. Doesn't that count for something for you?"

"Of course it does."

"Good. Let's get comfortable, that way when the flashback's over, you can try and go to sleep, all right?"

"'Kay." Emily set the camera on her nightstand and gladly allowed Hotch to spoon up behind her and find a hand to hold.

"Think we should throw her a birthday party?" Hotch asked.

"Charlotte? Of course. Even if no one can come, we have to have a cake and some presents. Maybe she'll be more interested in those than her Christmas presents."

A weight was finally lifted off of Emily, who was hearing Hotch's voice with perfect clarity for the first time since the flashback had started. "It's over," she told him, suddenly overtaken by drowsiness.

"Good. Try for some sleep?" Hotch asked, turning out his lamp as Emily did hers.

"Mm-hmm. We should try again another night."

"Don't worry about it right now. Just get some rest. I love you."

Fortunately, it didn't take Emily very long to find sleep, though it didn't stay for long. What sounded like a three-year-old's little fists banged on the bedroom door. She heard Hotch sigh and felt him roll out of bed.

"I have a tummy ache," Henry complained when Hotch opened up.

"Do you feel like you need to throw up?"

Emily rolled over in time to see Hotch crouching down in front of Henry and feeling his forehead.

"No."

"Well, then, I think you should just lie down and get some sleep and you'll feel better when you wake up, okay?"

"I wanna sleep with you and Mommy."

"Come on in, baby," Emily said before Hotch could say no. She caught his slight eye roll as he shut the door and followed Henry to bed. "What's this about a tummy ache?" she asked soothingly as Henry took Hotch's spot, forcing Hotch to the edge of the bed.

"Hi," Henry said with a toothy grin, his hair sticking out to the side.

Emily giggled, trying to tuck the hair back into place. "Hi."

"Henry, this isn't a party, okay, buddy? You can sleep in here if you're not feeling well, but you actually have to try and sleep," Hotch said, a hint of crankiness in his voice.

"Daddy's right," Emily said, scooting toward the other edge of the bed to give Hotch more room. "We have to go to sleep." She cupped her hand around Henry's ear and whispered something into it.

"Okay," Henry said dutifully, rolling over and tapping Hotch on the chest. Hotch, who lay on his back with his hands folded behind his head and his eyes closed, slowly peeled one eye open.

"Yes?"

"Mommy said I should tell you I love you and give you a kiss."

"Did she now?"

"Uh-huh."

"Well, then…" Hotch said. "Are you going to?"

"What?"

"Give me a kiss and tell me you love me."

Emily laughed at their antics.

"I love you, Daddy," Henry proclaimed, kissing Hotch on the forehead and plopping back down onto the mattress.

"Love you too, buddy. Time to go to sleep now."

"Daddy?" Jack said from the door, which he'd opened.

"Yes, Jack?"

"Can I sleep in here, too?"

"Are you sick?"

"Aaron," Emily muttered, unsure whether Hotch was cranky just from his sleep being interrupted or from their space being invaded as well. His patience with sharing a bed with the boys hadn't been tested since she had started sleeping with him. "Just let him in."

Jack waited for a verbal go-ahead from his dad, then trotted around to Emily's side of the bed and climbed in. She rolled onto her side to greet him, prompting Henry to crawl over her once he was neglected.

"We should go get Charlie, too," Jack whispered to Emily, letting Henry lie down in front of him.

"Jack," Hotch warned. "It's late. We need to get some sleep. Shh." He seemed a bit appeased that at least he had access to Emily now, laying an arm over her and dropping a kiss on her temple.

"You all right?" she asked quietly, turning to make it a short kiss on the lips.

"Yeah, just tired. How about you?"

"I've got all my favorite boys. I'm perfect."

—

Emily awoke before anyone else, or so she thought. Jack still lay passed out in front of her, but Henry was gone. She managed to sneak out of bed without waking Hotch or Jack, then walked out of the open door and down the hall in search of Henry. He sat in his pajamas on his bathroom floor, peeling the backing off of one of her panti-liners and sticking it to the side of the toilet next to three others. "Look, Mommy!" he said, pointing at his handiwork.

Emily knew she wasn't supposed to encourage him, but she couldn't hold back her giggles. "Wow, look at that. That's very pretty. But guess what, sweetie, those are mine and I need them."

"Why?"

"I just do. They're not for playing with, okay? That's why Santa brought you sticker books for Christmas."

"What's going on?" Hotch asked, creeping up behind Emily and placing a hand on the small of her back.

"Look, Daddy!"

Hotch smirked and shook his head. "How about you head downstairs and I'll come make you breakfast in a minute?"

"Pancakes?"

"You bet."

Once he had Emily to himself again, Hotch took advantage of it, wrapping his arms around her waist as she turned into him.

"I was only cranky last night because of the boys waking us up," he said, pressing his lips against her forehead. "I promise. It had nothing to do with what happened. And…we don't have to try again."

"I want to if you do," Emily said, looking up at him and rubbing circle on his chest. "But we have a week with no pressure starting tonight, probably," she said, stepping into the bathroom and grabbing a couple of boxes out from under the sink.

"Guess this completes the move-in process, huh?" Hotch said.

"Exactly. My tampons are going under your bathroom sink. You can't get rid of me now."

"Our."

"Huh?" Emily asked, walking back toward their bedroom, Hotch following behind her.

"Our sink. Actually, it technically is only your sink, since we each have our own," Hotch pointed out.

"Fair enough." Emily put her things away and got out her toothbrush.

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**


	94. Video Games, Skittles, and Crushes

**Enjoy the fluff!**

Church was the most eventful occurrence of the day by the time Sunday evening rolled around. Everyone but Hotch had taken a brief afternoon nap, and now he and Emily reclined side by side on the couch, watching the boys play a video game. Emily's suggestion of limiting their play time hadn't really been implemented yet, but it was almost bedtime for the boys anyway.

Though Emily had managed to put on a happy face about it all, underneath the surface she still felt foolish and guilty for what had happened, or not happened, the night before. Hotch hardly seemed fazed by it, though she had to remind herself that she was hiding her emotions, so he could easily be doing the same. Her ability to mask her worry, though, waned as the day went on, dissipating to the point that Hotch caught on. "Everything all right?" he asked into her ear, kissing her there and squeezing her opposite shoulder. "And 'I'm fine' is not an acceptable answer. What's up?"

Emily twisted and rested her chin on Hotch's shoulder, feeling her voice's waves being sent through his body. She spoke in a hushed tone. "I still feel…really bothered about last night. It was going great, it was perfect, and I ruined it. I'm angry at myself and I'm worried that it might have scared you, maybe on some subconscious level." Sturdy arms enclosed her, drawing her near.

"Don't be mad at yourself, please," Hotch said, even more quietly. "And it scared me only in the sense that you were suffering. It didn't scar me in the way you're thinking, I promise."

"How can you be sure?"

"Have a little faith, would you? Please? You suffered enough last night. I hate to see you beat yourself up over it. We did everything right. We talked, we took it slow, we thought about it, and I for one don't think we went into it too quickly. If I'm not mistaken, this is something we've both wanted for a long time, right?"

"Of course."

"Then don't blame yourself. You didn't do anything wrong."

"But I took the thinking part too far. If I wouldn't have over analyzed it I could have just kept enjoying it."

Hotch sighed and rolled his head back into the back of the couch, listening to the din of the video game for a moment. "I love you," he said lightly, "but you know what you're doing right now? You're over analyzing things. Just don't worry about it. Especially not now, since we have some time off. Relax. Can you do that? For me?" He turned his head, locking eyes with her instantly. Though her lips didn't budge, a small smile lit up in her eyes.

"I'll try," she said as she smoothed a hand over his chest. "And I love you, too, but without a critique attached to it. I just worry, that's all."

Hotch groaned. "You know, you've put me through much worse than this," he joked. "You don't need to worry."

"Oh yeah? What else have I put you through?"

"Oh, I think I could write a list. Matching swim trunks…actually, that's all I can think of at the moment." Hotch's mouth went crooked and he leaned in for a kiss just as Henry screamed shrilly. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Hotch asked, loosening his hold on Emily and turning to look at the boys. Jack's controller was set aside and he and Henry were playing tug-of-war with the other.

"Henry made me die!"

"That's part of the game, Jack. Give the controller back."

"But Daddy…"

"No buts. Give it back," Hotch said, his voice growing more stern, which fortunately rarely had to happen.

Jack chucked the controller across the floor, out of Henry's reach, and Henry's response was to smack Jack on the shoulder.

"Looks like it's bedtime," Hotch announced. "Game over. Let's go brush your teeth."

Emily listened as the boys both whined all the way up the stairs without even so much as a goodnight to her, which just amused her. Hotch saw this when he glanced back at her.

"Happy you bought that now?" she asked.

"Enough out of you," he said.

Emily laughed and stretched luxuriously across the entire couch, yawning. Her afternoon nap had just made her groggier. Her eyes grew heavy, threatening to close, when the doorbell rang. Reluctantly she rose from the couch, letting her feet drag a bit on the floor as she ventured to the front door. Garcia was on the other side, smiling brightly, giving Emily one herself. "Hey, come on in. What's up?"

"Oh, nothing, just thought I'd drop by and say hello. Sorry for not calling first. I like surprises and I forget that not everyone does."

"Oh, no problem. I'm glad you came." Emily waited for Garcia to get out of her boots and jacket before leading her to the living room. "Can I get you something to drink? Coffee? Tea?"

"Coffee would be nice, but only if it's decaf."

Emily laughed. "There's no point in keeping that around here, sorry. How are you?" she asked, plopping back down on the couch and patting the seat beside her.

"Can't complain. Where's Prince Charming?"

"Up putting the boys to bed. They were fighting over that stupid video game. I really hate that thing. I do. I want to chuck it out the window and…I don't know, hire a stripper dressed as a police officer to come to the house and pretend to do a theft report."

Garcia gave Emily the strangest of looks. "You are twisted, my love. Do we have some time before Lover Boy comes back down? I want a status update."

"The boys are being difficult tonight. We probably have a while."

"Well, then…how are things?"

Emily smiled sanguinely as she wrung her hands in her lap. "Things are really good."

"Really good? Why not great? Why not perfect? Is something going on?"

Emily laughed at the Garcia's panic ridden voice. "We, umm…" She leaned forward and glanced up the stairs to make sure Hotch wasn't at the top. She knew that he figured she told Garcia everything anyway, but he seemed to like to remain somewhat oblivious to that fact. Emily sometimes wished he would talk to Rossi or Sean more, thereby making her feel less guilty, but that might involve divulging her secret. "We…" Emily didn't know why she couldn't even say it. She just lifted her eyebrows meaningfully and cocked her head up the stairs. "You know."

The look on Garcia's face was one of pure joy, like one of a kid in a candy store. "You did? Seriously?" she whispered. "Oh my goodness, how was it? Perfect?"

Emily cringed for a brief moment. "It _was_ going great, and then I like the idiot that I am started thinking too much, and then…Aaron said something that wasn't out of place at all, and it triggered a flashback, and I think if I'd had my head in the game a little more it wouldn't have been a trigger, but…we had to stop."

"Ohhh." Garcia reached out for a hand to hold. "I'm so sorry, honey. How did he handle it?"

"Like a saint. And he still insists I shouldn't blame myself—"

"Well, of course…Sweetie, it's not your fault. You had a flashback. And he reacted appropriately."

"I know, but—"

"Uh-uh. Stop it. You both knew it was a possibility, so you were prepared. All things considered, it went smoothly."

"But I'm afraid that when we try again—_if _we try again—"

"Of course you'll try again," Garcia scoffed, but playfully. "You're sharing a bed, you're madly in love and have been for ages, and you've already gone there once, not counting the two really good tries from before. It would take a twelve-foot brick wall to keep you apart. Heck, even that might not work."

Emily shrugged, though she really wanted to laugh good-naturedly at Garcia's assessment. "Well, when we do try again, I'm scared he's going to be afraid to, I don't know, be the same way again. Like I said, it was going great before the flashback. What if it's all tense next time?"

"You being scared about it being tense isn't going to make it _less_ tense. Have you talked to him about this?"

"Briefly, right before you got here," Emily replied, picking at a fingernail. "He said the same thing as you."

"Well, there you go. I'm glad it was good before you had to stop. That's great, Em."

"I know. I'll shut up about it now. Oh, hey, guess what," she said with regained passion.

"Change of subject not so subtle, but you sound excited. What is it?" Garcia asked.

"I'll be right back. Stay put." Emily took off for the stairs with more energy than before, passing by the boys' bedroom right as Hotch was starting to tuck them in. She grabbed the video camera and stopped in on her way back to kiss the boys goodnight. Hotch followed her back downstairs.

"Hey, Garcia, what brings you by?" he asked, sitting in the chair. "I heard you but I didn't want to say hi. I knew the boys wouldn't go to bed if they knew you were here."

"Oh, no worries. Just dropped by to check in on my favorite bag of Skittles."

Emily rolled her eyes at Garcia, making Hotch's confused grin fade away. He figured he would rather not know. Emily hoped he had only heard Garcia's voice indistinctly, hadn't made out what in particular they had been talking about.

"What is it that you have to show me?" Garcia asked as Emily turned the camera on.

"Just watch."

Tears brimmed Garcia's eyes as she watched Charlotte walk on the camera's tiny screen. "Oh, I think I just died. Play it again. Play it again. Hurry."

—

"Can I come?" Henry asked later that week as Emily put her jacket on in preparation for her and Hotch's first real date. Hotch had pitched the idea the night before, forcing Emily to realize that they had been dating for well over a week without having been on an actual date. She wouldn't have turned it down for anything.

"Sorry, sweetie, this is time for just me and Daddy to be together," she said, crouching down. Be good for Emma, okay?"

Henry pouted but nodded, wrapping his arms around one of Emily's. "I like your hair, Mommy."

"Aw," Emily said, laughing, "thank you, baby. I like your hair, too."

Upstairs, Hotch was tightening his tie in front of the bedroom mirror while Jack watched. "Daddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you and Mommy gonna have a baby?"

Hotch managed to keep his eyes from going wide and his heart from sinking. "Umm, no, we're not going to have a baby."

"How come?"

"It's boring grown-up stuff, buddy. How do you know where babies come from anyway? I never had that talk with you."

"Uncle Spencer told me when he babysat us once."

Once he got past the initial shock, Hotch chuckled and made a mental note to share this gem with Emily. "Did he now? Did he tell you anything else you didn't already know?"

"Daddy-long-legs aren't really spiders."

"That's true. All right, buddy, I think I heard Emma come in. Time for me to go."

"Can we play video games?"

"Only if Emma says it's okay, and only for a half hour. Speaking of which, I'd better let her know about that," Hotch added under his breath. He grabbed his suit jacket and led Jack downstairs.

"Emma!" Jack shouted, rushing to her. "Can we play video games?"

Hotch rolled his eyes. "Only if it's okay with you," he said to Emma, who smiled oddly at him. "Only for a half hour, though. And they've already had dinner and a snack, so no more food for them, but you can help yourself to whatever you find. We'll be back by ten."

"Okay," Emma said vaguely.

"Can we jump on the bed?" Jack asked.

"Absolutely not," Hotch answered.

"But you and Mommy did…"

"I think you were hearing things," Hotch said nervously, avoiding the babysitter's eyes. "Ready?" he asked Emily. She nodded, trying to hold back her laughter as she handed Hotch his jacket.

"That was pleasant," Hotch uttered once he and Emily were in the car.

"Nice way for the babysitter to find out we're seeing each other," Emily agreed.

"I wonder if we woke him up or if he was already awake. Were we really that loud?"

"I wouldn't feel too weird about it," Emily said, resting a hand on Hotch's thigh and giving it a squeeze. "He obviously didn't know what it was."

"You know what," Hotch said, suddenly remembering his conversation with Jack, "you'd be surprised. Guess what Jack knows now."

"What?"

"Where babies come from. Apparently Reid had some variation of a sex talk with him when he babysat him how many months ago?"

Emily laughed so hard she nearly snorted. "Well, Reid saved you from the birds and the bees. Maybe we should thank him."

"Or never let him babysit again without supervision."

"How did that come up in conversation, anyway?" Emily asked.

Hotch hadn't meant to bring the topic up to dredge up the baby subject, but there was no way around it now. "He wanted to know if you and I were going to have a baby. I told him no and asked how he knew where babies come from."

"Ah. What did he say about your answer? Did he seem okay with it?"

"He was curious as to why, but he didn't fight it. Don't worry about it." Hotch covered Emily's hand in his lap and brought it up to his lips, laying a kiss on her knuckles.

"Hopefully he doesn't bring it up again. How was your day, by the way? We didn't get to talk yet."

"Actually, I have some good news. But can it wait until we're eating?" he asked, holding back a smile.

"Ooh, good news? No, I want to know now."

Hotch laughed. "Later. How was your day?"

"It was good…"

Hotch looked over at Emily, spying the glint in her eye. "Do you have good news, too?"

"No, not really news. Just one of the women I work with asked me why I was _so gosh darn happy lately._" Emily's smile spread not only across her cheeks but to Hotch's as well.

"What'd you tell her?" Hotch asked, squeezing Emily's hand and looking at her when he stopped at a red light.

"Well, they all know the gist of things, that I was living with raising kids with a single guy. So I told her we're together now."

"You're blushing," Hotch noted, letting go of her hand and brushing a finger against her cheek.

"I know, I know. It felt really strange to tell someone who's not really a close friend but not really a stranger either. Or maybe it just felt weird to say period. But it felt weird in a good way. It made me forget about the other night and just focus on the fact that we're even together, which for so long I just thought was never going to happen." She palmed his face and they met halfway for a peck on the lips that turned into something longer. They both forgot where they were until a driver behind them honked his horn. Hotch let off the brakes and started moving again, a seemingly permanent grin plastered on his face. "They think you're gorgeous, by the way," Emily added. After Hotch's raised eyebrow, she went on. "They always want to see pictures of the kids, so I'll show them some from my phone, some of which you're in, too. They sometimes threatened to track you down if I didn't go after you myself."

"That's…nice, I suppose," Hotch said, still wearing a smile but with a furrowed brow to accompany it.

"Babysitter likes you, too," Emily said offhandedly.

"Excuse me?"

"She was totally checking you out. I can't blame her. Eh, I shouldn't have said anything. Don't act weird around her, okay?"

Hotch reached over, lay a hand on the back of Emily's neck, and gave it a soft pinch. "You can't tell me that someone…oh, thirty years younger, plenty young enough to be my own daughter, finds me attractive, and not expect me to feel uncomfortable."

Emily smiled wickedly. "Oh, I don't mind if you feel uncomfortable. Just _act_ like you don't. Now get us to the restaurant. I want to hear this good news."

**A/N: Reviews are love and kind of like money. Please consider leaving one. No account needed! And keep the Skittles bit in mind for the tie-in oneshot "All This Time: Skittles" :)  
**


	95. First Date

**A/N: Please enjoy! Hotch and Emily's first official date, in chapter 95…wow.**

"Hopefully the baby doesn't wake up again and cut our time short," Hotch said, trying to move the conversation away from his news, wanting to be able to keep his word and not divulge until they were at dinner.

"Well, if she does, Emma's in for a surprise if she puts her down on the floor. I don't think I told her she's walking, did you?"

"No, good point. Hey, how was therapy, by the way? I meant to ask last night, but someone distracted me…"

"Something about a tongue down your throat can do that," Emily said, smiling in self-satisfaction. "It was good. I don't feel like I'm in crisis-mode anymore, which is great. And oh—she said that you did a really good job handling it, that you did everything right."

Still, Hotch's stomach lurched a little at the thought of Emily recounting their most intimate moments with someone else, but this news wasn't unwelcome. It had been one of his biggest insecurities going into this relationship, and it made him glad to know that more than one person thought he'd done well in the heat of the moment. "Good."

"And I agree. If I haven't said that enough, then I'm a schmuck. As disappointing as it was that we had to stop, I'm really grateful for how well you handled it."

"Of course." Hotch timed the next traffic light so that it was yellow by the time he arrived. He slowed to a stop, then gave Emily his attention again.

"You did that on purpose," she accused, though she was anything but unhappy with his scheming when she leaned in for another tender kiss. "I could kiss you all day," she said when their lips parted. "Really, I could."

He moved her hair out of the way and brushed his lips against her cheek before moving to her mouth again. "I can give you thirty seconds."

"I'll take it."

Hotch felt like a teenager again and reveled in it, occasionally peeping up at the stop light to make sure they didn't hold up traffic again. Once they got moving, they joined hands between their seats.

"What's for dinner, anyway?" Emily asked.

"It's a surprise."

"Fancy?"

Hotch nodded.

"Will I have to keep my hands off of you?"

Hotch chuckled. "Afraid so. I wouldn't complain if you snuck in a game of footsie, though."

"My question was completely rhetorical. Kissing in the car at a red light is enough PDA for me."

"Actually, I think this is the first time we've been out in public since we got together, no?" Hotch wondered aloud.

"What about church?"

"Doesn't count."

"Then I guess you're right. Wow. We have no lives," Emily joked.

"Maybe we should try for a date night every other week. Just us, no talking about the kids…"

"Sounds like a plan to me."

—

The second they were seated, Hotch itched to tell Emily his news just as badly as she itched to hear it, but something about watching her obvious attempt to refrain from bothering him about it made him want to drag it out a little longer.

"So, I was thinking," Emily said as she perused her menu, "and I know you said no talking about the kids, but we do need to talk about this. For Charlotte's birthday, we could have dinner at our place, nothing fancy since we don't have room for everyone in the dining room anyway, and cake, and presents."

"Sounds like a birthday party," Hotch said.

She looked up at him. "It is."

"I just like how you went into such detail instead of just suggesting a party," he said with a smirk. "Sounds good, though. Think you can get out of work sometime that week to take her in for her checkup?"

"I should be able to. Okay, done with the kid talk. Hey, does your menu have prices by chance?" she asked, again rhetorically.

"Yes…"

"Can I see?"

Hotch straightened out his lips, pulling his menu closer. "No."

"This is too expensive if my menu doesn't have prices. That's totally sexist, by the way, assuming the man is paying for the meal."

"Sexist but accurate." Hotch lifted his eyebrows and saw Emily open her mouth to speak, but he cut her off. "I told you, I'm a traditionalist. I'd like to take you out on a date, my way, at least once in a while, which means my treat, and you get dessert and you drink as much wine as you want."

"Okay, you're clearly in a spending mood. Please tell me what's up. Did you win the lottery?" Emily asked, setting her menu down.

"You already know what you want?" Hotch asked, eying her menu.

"Yes, I want to know your news, and I'm not ordering dinner until you tell me. So spill."

Hotch kept his menu up to avoid their waiter coming to take the order they weren't ready to place. "All right, all right." He stroked his chin as he contemplated the most clever way to spill. He drew a blank. "I was offered a promotion today," he said, a smile cracking on his face when Emily's eyes lit up. "It was the same spot as before, but the guy they promoted when they passed me up requested a transfer. I guess I was second in line."

Emily's eyes widened and lit up instantly "Aaron, that's great…" She beamed, reaching out for a hand and squeezing the life out of it. "But you didn't take it, or you haven't decided yet?"

"I haven't decided. I wanted to see what you think."

"Well, are there certain drawbacks you have in mind?" Emily asked, stroking the back of Hotch's hand with her thumb and sending chills up the length of his spine without knowing it. "You said last time it was the same hours, more responsibility, better pay, right?"

"Correct. None of that's changed."

"Then take it," Emily said, furrowing her brow in disbelief. "Unless I'm missing something."

Hotch shook his head. "I'm serious, I just wanted to see what you think."

Emily's demeanor softened considerably. "Really?"

"Well…yeah. Why is that so hard to believe?" If he weren't in such a good mood, Hotch might have read too much into Emily not understanding why he wanted her input; instead he simply saw her mild ignorance endearing. "This is a committed relationship."

"Yeah, but I don't think that means I'm the boss of you."

Hotch couldn't stop himself from laughing quietly as he took his hand away. "I don't believe that for a second."

"You'd better watch it. If we weren't at such a nice restaurant…" Emily warned. Her pinky finger hung uncouthly from her mouth as she looked at him with a fire in her eyes.

"All right, our waiter's getting antsy. We'd better pick something."

"Good idea. God, I'm starving."

"Why didn't you eat something with the kids?" Hotch asked.

"Because you said we were going somewhere nice. I figured I'd rather fill myself with food that didn't come out of a box."

"Fair enough."

"Can you believe this is really our first date?" Emily asked in wonderment once they placed their dinner orders and each had a glass of cabernet in front of them.

"We've gotten things a little backwards, haven't we?" Hotch remarked.

"Move in together, get some kids, start a relationship, move into the same room, fool around, and then go on a date," Emily rattled off. "What's wrong with that? Sounds completely conventional."

"By our own standards, anyway." Emily hummed in agreement, taking a sip of her wine and gazing covertly at their fellow diners. Hotch took the pause in conversation to appreciate what was before him in a way that made him feel slightly guilty, but when he remembered what Emily's therapist had told them, he convinced himself that, especially given the fact that they were in a relationship, he was permitted to appreciate her beauty for what it was. Her pointed features matched his own in many respects, which threatened to get him lamenting over Emily vetoing any more children. He moved on, studying her slender neck that led down to the form-fitting black dress with a wide neckline and three-quarter length sleeves. He couldn't help but let his eyes wander to her chest, but only for a moment before moving back up. Something about her hair, which hung in loose curls, caught his attention as well. "Did you get your hair cut?" he asked.

Her eyebrows raised as if snapped out of a daze. "Hmm? Oh, no, not recently. Maybe a couple of months ago. Why, does it look different? It's curled, but we've lived together for almost a year and I curl it once every couple of weeks, at least."

"It just…looks shorter."

Emily humored Hotch and pulled a curl straight, holding it against a breast without a thought. "See? It's no shorter. But you definitely get points for noticing my hair enough to think anything was different even if it wasn't."

"Good to know. I'll just start asking every night."

Emily laughed softly. "I actually was thinking of getting it cut, and not just trimmed. Maybe back up to my shoulders. What do you think?"

"It's your hair," Hotch said cautiously, having had been down this road a few times before and knowing what dangerous territory it could be.

"It's _your job_," she countered, tipping her glass to him.

"Touché."

"I told you what I thought about the promotion. Tell me what you think about my hair." Her smile was one of the deepest pleasure; Hotch assumed it was from watching him squirm. "Be honest. I've worn it both ways, so I won't be offended. Long or short?"

"Emily, you can wear your hair any way you want to and you'd still be beautiful to me. You know that, don't you?"

"I really do appreciate that," she said, her efforts at trying not to sound condescending not going unnoticed by Hotch. "But I really am curious. _I_ have a preference pertaining to _your_ hair."

"You do?"

She nodded. "You tell me yours, I'll tell you mine."

"Long, like it is now," Hotch said, wetting his suddenly parched his lips. "Like I said, though, I love it any way you wear it, so if you want to get it cut—"

"You don't need to add a disclaimer, really. It's okay. I just might let it grow," Emily said with a vague smile.

"What about you?"

Emily narrowed her eyes in thought, apparently not sure how to phrase herself. "I like it most when it's not hanging on your forehead. I especially like it really short."

"So I need to start piling on the hair gel when I'm procrastinating about getting it cut?"

"Just like you said to me, I love your hair any way you wear it. Off your face just happens to be my favorite. So is this what we talk about on dates?"

"I don't know. We know pretty much everything there is to know already, don't we?"

Emily pursed her lips. "Not everything."

"Enlighten me," Hotch invited.

"Favorite body parts…although I guess that's more of a bedroom conversation."

"Agreed. How about…where we'd like to travel. We've never talked about that."

"That's because it's never going to happen."

"It's a possibility. We have family and friends who can handle the kids, and we'll have a little extra money. Even without that, we could've swung it. Where have you always wanted to go?"

Emily shrugged. "I've been everywhere. Don't get me wrong, I love to travel. But I spent my entire childhood doing it. I ran out of destinations."

"There isn't _one_ place you haven't been to?"

"Well, I don't know if I'd ever actually go, but I'd love to see a rainforest. Maybe in Brazil. I haven't been around very much in South America."

"That sounds adventurous," Hotch said, realizing how much like a first date this was beginning to sound. He wasn't sure whether that was a good or bad thing.

"Like I said, not sure if I'd ever do it. What about you?"

"Alaska. I know we've been there, but I'd like to go for pleasure instead of business someday."

"Not in the winter," Emily said.

"Why not?"

Emily feigned shivering and shook her head. "Have fun alone. Anywhere else?"

"I think I got my fair share of traveling in through my career. Alaska's the one place I've always wanted to revisit, though. I'm sure I can bribe you with chocolate, no?"

"Yeah, we'll see about that. Hey, what do you want to do after dinner? We'll still have another hour, hour and a half maybe, before we need to be back."

Hotch thought, and with another tinge of guilt. Even though he had gotten a good deal, he had still dropped a pretty penny on the ring stowed away in the basement. He hadn't gone into debt over it, having dug into his savings to pay off the hefty credit card balance immediately, and when he'd found out about his promotion and resulting pay increase, he'd planned on having a nice dinner out and then maintaining their typical lifestyle so he could replenish his savings. Something else popped into his head, though, something less responsible. "Want to go look at furniture for the bedroom?"

"Just look? Not buy?"

"Sure."

"I suppose it couldn't hurt."

—

"I feel ridiculous," Emily said under her breath as she let Hotch lead the way to a vast display of bedroom sets.

"What? Furniture shopping on a date?" Hotch asked.

"Not that so much as what I'm wearing," she replied, placing her hand in Hotch's overcoat pocket as she sauntered alongside him. "Who dresses up to go furniture shopping?"

"People who have a babysitter for the night. Wait—unless—did you want to bring the kids with us? Does that sound like fun?" Hotch quipped as he made a beeline for a very traditional mahogany set.

"Very funny. Hey, it's not a cabin in the woods, Aaron. And it's not a bed and breakfast. Can't we go a little more modern?"

Hotch looked put out. "How modern?"

"Can't we go to IKEA?"

Hotch stopped in his tracks. "IKEA?"

"What? It's not like this is any fancier."

"It has nothing to do with fancy. I just care about not having furniture that only has straight lines," Hotch said.

"So you don't like my furniture?"

"Honestly, it's not my cup of tea."

"Then it looks like we're going to have to compromise. Traditional lines, modern finish, or modern lines and traditional finish?" Emily offered.

"Traditional lines and traditional finish," Hotch said quietly, not letting Emily get to him at all. He ran his hands over the top of the mahogany dresser he'd had his eyes on and opened one of the drawers. "This is surprisingly high quality," he said. "Feel that. Nice and heavy."

"I absolutely hate it, I'm sorry. There, look at that one, your three o'clock," she said. "Clean lines but the same color. And the hardware doesn't matter. If we don't like the hardware we can always change it."

"That's actually not bad," Hotch murmured, taking Emily's hand and leading her in the proper direction. "And that's probably the best reaction either one of us is going to have if we're at such opposite ends of the taste spectrum.

"I actually really like it. And the dresser's huge. We could probably get away with only one, or put a second one in the closet. The closet's huge. That would leave more space in the bedroom."

"You're right. I'm tempted to just buy this and walk away. I hate shopping for big purchases. Work is stressful enough."

"You said we're only looking," Emily reminded him. "I can't swing it this paycheck. Maybe next. I'm still recovering from Christmas."

"This was going to be my celebratory purchase. I got a raise. Figured it might be nice to buy something we need."

"First off, we don't need furniture, we just want it. Second, I know that you dropped well over a hundred dollars on dinner, half of that on wine alone, and you're lucky we're allowed to take wine home from restaurants here otherwise it would've been a waste."

"Why do you think I bought a bottle? And like I said, we hadn't had a proper date yet."

"And I absolutely loved it. And I think it's great that you want to spend some money after getting a raise. I'm _so _happy for you and you deserve to indulge. But I'd like to go in on the furniture together. I like our fifty-fifty policy."

Hotch rolled his eyes, drawing Emily in close by the waist. "Why don't we just…pool everything together?" he suggested casually.

"What?" Emily's curls bounced around as she shook her head rather violently. "No, absolutely not."

"Your pride regarding money drives me crazy, and not in an endearing way," Hotch said with a slight eye roll.

"I _like_ the setup we have now. Just because you got a raise doesn't mean we need to restructure everything." Emily opened a dresser drawer on the set she'd found.

"I wasn't suggesting it because I got a raise. I was suggesting it because I love you, and I don't want things like this to matter. It's silly. I'd rather worry about more important things." Hotch had half a mind to completely disregard societal conventions—as if they hadn't enough already—and get down on one knee, sans ring, in the middle of a furniture store, on their first date, only a week into the relationship. Emily's continued stubbornness had an inhibitory effect, though.

"I love you, too," was all she said, but at least it sounded like she meant it fully and wasn't merely trying to get him off her case. He wished he could read her mind right about now, figure out what on earth was going on in her head. He supposed, though, that if he were in her shoes, he might react similarly.

"If money is such a big deal, you can always pay me back when you have it," Hotch said. "This set's nice, and it's on clearance. We should grab it."

"It's only the second set we've looked at, and the clearance thing is a ploy. You know that," Emily said with amused astonishment. "Wow, you really meant it when you said you didn't like shopping for this stuff, didn't you?"

"I told you…"

"If you agree to hold off until next weekend, after payday, and actually _shop_, then I'll compromise more on the furniture and lean a little more in your direction. How about that?"

"The money thing really means that much to you, doesn't it?"

"That, and I don't want to go making an impulse purchase on something we're going to be using for the foreseeable future."

"Fine," Hotch conceded. He checked his watch just as a salesman spotted them and started his approach from afar. "Let's get out of here before the sales guy sucks our last forty-five minutes away. Want ice cream?"

"It's January and I already had dessert." Emily gave Hotch an odd look as he waved politely to the salesman and led them out of the store.

"Your point being?"

"I shoot you down left and right, yet you still spoil me…I love you."

"Oh, was I not clear? The ice cream's on you."

**A/N: Please leave a review! They are my paycheck.  
**


	96. One Year

Hotch was engrossed in a novel and didn't hear Emily turn the lock when she came to their room for the night. She pouted, unseen, and turned out the overhead light before sauntering over to the bed and slithering under the covers. It took Hotch a good minute to realize that Emily was lying next to him, on her side, her head propped up, and her eyes lit with an impatient fire. He did a double take when he noticed where her interest was focused. "Yes?" he asked with a bemused sparkle in his own eyes.

She smiled at finally getting his attention. "Took you long enough."

"Sorry, good book," he said, dog-earing his page and setting the book aside. "Can I help you?"

She scooted nearer and placed her lips just against his. "I don't know, can you?"

He closed his eyes and pulled on her bottom lip. "Maybe…what seems to be the problem?"

"I…have an itch. I was hoping you could scratch it."

"I see. And you're…available?"

"Open for business," Emily said with a low laugh.

Her words were undeniably enticing, and Hotch found himself palming the small of her back when she climbed over him and straddled his hips. It was nothing that she did wrong—for she showed him every way he supposed she could that she wanted him, that last time hadn't scared her—but Hotch's body wasn't producing the reactions he would have expected when Emily lowered her body parallel to his, sucked lightly on his neck, and rolled her hips in circles. The chills came, sure, and his breath caught in his throat a bit at the sensation of her grinding against him, but the arousal didn't fully manifest itself. Emily didn't seem to notice, though, slowly undressing both of them completely and lying down next to Hotch again. She must have assumed he was inoculated and his body wouldn't be quite as overeager, because she looked unbothered as she ran a hand down his stomach and took a gentle grip on him. Her touch sent him reeling; there was no denying that. But as she smothered his lips in fervent and somewhat impatient kisses, as she pulled him and massaged him without a response, she caught up with him in the realization that things weren't moving along as they were supposed to. Hotch pulled out of the kiss before Emily could, his head slumping back into his pillow in quiet frustration. "Sorry," he breathed.

"No need to apologize," Emily said cautiously, lying down on her stomach and draping an arm over Hotch's slowly rising and falling chest. "Maybe we just need a little more foreplay."

"That's not it." Hotch's blood nearly boiled, but he managed to keep it from bubbling over.

"Oh," Emily said in an epiphany. "That…Well, it happens, right?"

Hotch swallowed. "No, it's not that, either. If there's one thing I've never had a problem with, it's this, trust me," he said pointedly.

"Oh." Emily sounded dejected this time, which of course had not been Hotch's intention. "Was it something I did? Didn't do? _Can_ I do something?"

"No, no, no," Hotch said with haste, shaking his head and rolling to his side to face the woman he'd wanted for so long. "It wasn't anything you did or said or didn't do or didn't say." _Not tonight, anyway, _he figured.

"What is it, then?"

"I…honestly don't know," he fibbed. Lied. It was a downright lie. He could envision himself railing her until her legs and arms grew limp and she traveled to another world for a time, and it made his stomach turn. So did his inability to do something as simple as let himself get an erection.

"If it's because of my flashback last time, I don't want you to be scared," Emily said. "That was completely my fault and I know how to avoid it this time."

Hotch sat up and massaged his face with the heels of his hand as he shook his head slowly again. "That wasn't your fault. There had to have been something that triggered it. Was there? You said there wasn't, that it was just random, but if it was something I said or did, I need to know. Don't spare me."

"I thought this wasn't about that night," Emily said poignantly, sitting up next to Hotch and bringing the sheets up over her bare chest.

"I'm not saying it was."

"I think we're both hiding something," Emily admitted. "Can we agree to actually be honest, without fear of hurting each other's feelings?"

"I can't exactly refuse outright to be honest with you, can I?" Hotch deadpanned, sitting back against the headboard. Emily followed suit again and fished around under the covers until she found Hotch's hand to hold.

"I'll go first," she said. "The trigger was something entirely commonplace in a sexual setting. It was something you said, yes, but there's no reason you should feel guilty, because it's something plenty of people say in bed. Plus, if I hadn't been so out of it on my little head trip, I think I could have avoided the flashback altogether."

"What was it that I said?" Hotch asked, his stomach turning further at this news. He'd been suspicious, but hadn't harped on it partly because Emily had felt bad enough about that night, and partly because he hadn't been sure he had wanted to know the truth. Now, on one hand, he was glad she was being honest, but on the other hand, it made the issue at hand no easier to overcome.

Emily sighed and played with Hotch's thumb. "You said something like, 'God, you feel so good.'"

Hotch remembered distinctly saying that now. She _had_ felt wonderful, and he hadn't known how else to voice his appreciation. He swallowed as he looked over at her, expecting to see tears glistening in her eyes, but she didn't look the least bit bothered over having to repeat what he had said. She eyed him with worry, though, apparently concerned that he wasn't taking it in stride as well as she was.

"Like I said," she repeated, "it's nothing you can control or predict. That's why I didn't tell you in the first place. But I figured tonight, if on some unconscious level, you're scared that it was your fault, that you should know it wasn't. I can't…give you a list of triggers to memorize, because almost anything could be some sort of trigger. So you need to stop worrying yourself."

"Easier said than done," Hotch said.

"So tonight was about that?" Emily asked, seeking confirmation. Guilt overtook Hotch for even trying to lie about it, and she had been honest with him, so he nodded.

"I started seeing it in my mind. You know, how it might happen again."

"There has to be something I can do to keep you from feeling that way."

"I don't think there is, Em," he replied with a squeeze of her hand. "I think for the moment it's stuck in my head and I can't force it out. Another night, I'm sure I'll be fine. Just not tonight. My brain is only in one place right now, though. But can I do anything for you? You were obviously raring to go. I don't want to cut you off like that."

"Don't worry about me," Emily said lightly, walking two fingers up Hotch's chest, rubbing his shoulder briskly when she got there. "Let's just not worry about it tonight. Let's just go to sleep and…maybe in the morning…" she wiggled her eyebrows at him, eliciting a brief grin.

"Morning erections never come along when I need them," Hotch lamented, looking ahead of him. He wanted to bang his head repeatedly into the headboard, both to knock some sense into himself and push the worry away. It wasn't supposed to be like this, him having the issues. Emily was supposed to be the limiting factor—he was supposed to focus on making her comfortable and ready, not the other way around. "I wouldn't hold your breath."

"Then I'll try and keep my paws to myself, and when _you_ get the itch, just let me know." Hotch appreciated the supportive tone that Emily mustered up as she stepped out of bed and got dressed again. Hotch did the same, but before they could climb back into bed, Emily said, "How about a smoke? I think it's been way too long."

"It's a little cold out," Hotch said with a chuckle. "Don't you think?"

Emily shrugged and smiled. "Then we can come back inside and curl up under the covers."

**Two Weeks Later**

Hotch sat at the edge of his and Emily's bed, the drawers on their new dresser open and awaiting clean clothing. It was part of their second new furniture set—the dresser on their first choice had been far too large, which wouldn't have been an issue had Hotch gotten out a tape measure and figured out how much room they had, like Emily had suggested. She hadn't minded, though, seemingly amused that she had a typical man in the house at whom she could poke a bit of fun. He had been happy to provide a distraction from the mild tension that had arisen from their most recent failed encounter. They hadn't tried again since, Emily keeping her word not to pressure Hotch, and Hotch still having a nagging fear in the back of his mind that quelled the desires he'd had to ignore for years. It was frustrating, but thankfully Emily seemed happy with their current arrangement. The physical intimacy wasn't completely absent, but nothing had happened that had involved the removal of clothing.

Emily jerked him from his daze when she came through the bedroom door and greeted him. She laughed when she realized she'd startled him, then apologized.

"Hey," he said with a warm smile, watching her take a pile of clean laundry down to the floor and get to folding as well.

"Sean just called. He's an hour out."

"I still can't believe he drove in this weather," Hotch marveled.

"You know what? I can. I think he loves any reason to come visit. He doesn't really seem to have anyone he spends much time with back home. He finally has somewhere to _really_ call home, I think. You know, this is his family."

"Guess you're right."

"And I'm thrilled that he's coming. I know he was just here for Christmas, but you guys didn't get time to talk much, and I think it's kind of unfair that I have Garcia to talk to all the time. I know you talk to Sean on the phone, but that's not really the same. And Rossi's always so busy…"

"I'm fine," Hotch said gently. "You know I'm a pretty private person."

"And so am I, except with the people I love. Don't be afraid to open up a little, to let someone in besides me. Preferably a man. Or even Jessica, actually, if you feel comfortable. Just someone who isn't me."

"Em." Hotch wore a lovingly irritated look that garnered a hasty apology. "Talking to anyone about the majority of what's going on in our relationship would involve sharing something extremely private and something that's not mine to share." He was already looking at the laundry he was folding again, no longer at Emily, but he saw her out of the corner of his eye as she stopped her work.

"If you want to," she said with a sigh, "you can tell someone. I mean, let's face it…it's a big part of my life, of _our_ life. And it's in the past, and it's not literally traumatizing me anymore save for that flashback, which was because of my stupidity, so I don't mind. If it makes it easier for you to talk to someone, then I think you should."

"Am I that bad?" Hotch asked, tucking away a t-shirt.

"What? _No_, you don't seem down or anything. I just feel bad whenever I get one of my girls' nights out with Garcia and you're home with the kids, and I never get to do the same for you. I think it's healthy to talk to someone else about what's going on in your life besides your significant other, you know?" She got back to folding.

Hotch cracked a grin. "That's only because you do it. What's that called again?"

"Cognitive dissonance," Emily said, not at all bothered by Hotch's accusation. "And maybe that's true to an extent, but I don't care. Please go have a beer with someone, and soon. You should get some guy time."

"How much have you thought through how you feel about me telling them about your PTSD?"

"Quite a bit, actually," Emily said, and Hotch believed her. "It's not something I would just throw out there, trust me. Just…make sure none of them come rushing to me with flowers or anything. Reiterate that I am okay."

"I appreciate your blessing, but I'll be honest. I still don't know if I'll tell anyone," Hotch said with a shrug.

"Well, my offer stands indefinitely." Emily picked up her finished stack of laundry and put it on the corner of the bed for Hotch to put away. "I love you. More than anything," she said, sitting next to him and running a lone finger along his scalp. It sent chills down his spine and his hands forgot what they were supposed to be doing.

"I love you more," he said with a playfully slanted mouth.

"And I love when you play along," she said, pleased, closing in for a kiss that escalated into something they normally kept private. Hotch forgot his surroundings as well, and even what they had been talking about, as he snaked his tongue into every nook and cranny of Emily's welcoming mouth.

Their reminder of the time of day and the fact that their door was open came in the form of a three-foot-tall spectator who eventually walked over and tapped Emily on the knee. She broke away from Hotch immediately and turned to the source of interruption. Hotch rolled his eyes slightly and finished with the laundry.

"Hey, sweetie, what's up?" Emily asked Henry as he climbed up onto the bed and into her lap.

"What are you doing?"

"Uh, folding laundry," she answered. Hotch let out a breathy laugh next to her.

"No, with Daddy."

"Oh, well…I was kissing him. You've seen me kiss Daddy before."

"Why do you do that?" Henry asked in innocent curiosity typical for his age.

"Because I love him," she stated simply.

"Do you love me, too?" Henry asked.

Hotch peeked over his shoulder to see Emily's reaction. "Of course I love you, but in a different way. You get…_these kinds of kisses_!" she growled, tickling his sides as she attacked his face with kisses and he giggled shrilly.

"I love you too, Mommy," Henry said once he caught his breath. He clutched onto her and gave Hotch a blank look.

"Somebody's jealous," Emily said under her breath to Hotch.

"What does that mean?" Henry asked.

"It means…that it's almost time for everyone to get here, so let's go downstairs," Emily replied.

"I get Mommy now, ha-ha," Henry boasted to Hotch as Emily carried him out of the room.

"Congratulations, Oedipus."

—

Hotch had hoped to surprise his brother with Charlotte's recent milestone, but his cover was blown when she walked to the front door to see who had been behind it when Sean arrived. He noticed right away, not even greeting Hotch before crouching down and holding out his arms. "Well look at you! Get over here," he told the baby, who smiled bashfully and turned the other way. "Shot down by a one-year-old. I'm losing my touch."

"If you talk to Emily, she'd say Charlie's already taken anyway," Hotch said dryly, giving Sean a hug and taking a gift bag that he proffered. "Thanks for coming out. Think you'll stay the night?"

"It's getting pretty shi—crappy out there. If it's all right I'll probably crash…"

"Of course. We're always glad to have you. Everyone else is already here."

"Oh, sorry, I didn't mean to hold things up."

"Nothing fancy," Hotch insisted. "Dinner's not quite done yet anyway. Make yourself at home."

"Uncle Sean!" Jack shouted, tearing around the corner and jumping into Sean's waiting arms. Emily came out to greet him, too, exchanging a kiss on the cheek and offering to take his jacket.

"Me too," Jack insisted, pointing to his own cheek.

Emily kissed Jack on the cheek and ruffled his hair. "What is it with you guys today? Good lord…"

"Can we have cake now?" Henry asked from his seat on Garcia's lap when everyone finally congregated in the living room. Hotch and Emily had brought in all the chairs from the dining room. Combined with the living room furniture and the floor, which a few people had gladly taken, there was enough room for everyone.

"We have to have dinner before we can have cake," Garcia informed Henry.

"Parents couldn't make it?" Sean asked Emily in the middle of his hellos to everyone.

"Italy," Emily explained. "I'll go check on dinner." Hotch followed her, surprising her by grasping her waist when she opened the oven to check on two pans of lasagna. "Hey, hot oven and an audience," she chided, closing the oven door, though, to let Hotch do what he pleased. He merely wrapped his arms around her middle, feeling like anyone in the living room who happened to have an unobstructed view would be distracted enough not to notice or care what they were up to, and placed a short kiss in her hair. "What's up with you?" she asked. "Not that I'm complaining."

Hotch felt a welcome stirring in his stomach and his cheeks burned. "Tonight…"

"Oh?" She rotated in his arms and wrapped her own around his neck. "Yeah?"

His eyebrows twitched before he brushed her lips with hers. "Let's just say I wish I had a fast-forward button."

"You can't say that, it's Charlotte's first birthday. We'll never get this back. Besides, the wait will make it worth it," Emily said with certainty.

"Oh—sorry," Jessica said from near the counter, apparently unaware of what she was walking into until now.

Hotch licked his lips as he drew away from Emily, offering Jessica an apologetic smile. "No worries. Dinner's not quite ready."

"Actually, it is," Emily said. "You just wouldn't let me take it out of the oven."

"Well, then. You should feed the masses. We're hungry," Hotch said. He walked out of the kitchen, leaving Emily's mouth hanging open.

"Did he just…? Wow," Emily said, rolling her eyes. "Sorry, by the way."

"It's fine," Jessica said, waving Emily's worry away. "You know, I haven't really had the chance to talk to you since Christmas, and I wanted to apologize if I didn't seem as excited as everyone else about your news."

"What on earth are you talking about?" Emily asked, hoping she sounded sincerely ignorant.

"I know you noticed. And to be honest, I truly wasn't as excited as everyone else. Don't get me wrong, it was great to see you both so happy," Jessica said, searching the drawers for a spatula while Emily took out the lasagna. "I just…it took me a while to wrap my head around the fact that he isn't trying to replace Haley, that's all. And I have. I'm at peace with that, so I think some more genuine congratulations are in order."

Emily took the spatula from Jessica and watched her take some plates down. "Thank you. That's…really sweet. That means a lot."

"I'm glad you're both happy. After the year you've been through, God knows you deserve it."

Emily chuckled. "Thank you. You have no idea. Hey," she said abruptly, "Garcia—Penelope—and I were going to go out for sushi sometime next week. You should come. That is, if you want to."

Jessica was momentarily stunned, but then nodded fervently, beaming. "That sounds great."

Emily tried not to be bothered that no one seemed very interested in the dinner she and Hotch had prepared, and was able to succeed in this only because the distraction seemed to be Charlotte, whose walking had everyone utterly captivated—everyone but Hotch, anyway, who seemed fascinated in someone else entirely. He kept his affectionate touches very covert but frequent enough to remind Emily every few minutes that he wanted her in a very bad way. She ignored him almost completely, though he knew it wasn't maliciously. She simply knew it would drive him crazy, and she was correct. Henry eventually climbed into Emily's lap on the floor, the three-year-old giving his dad another blank stare and unnerving him as if he had a gun pointed between Hotch's eyes.

Hotch gave him a strange look. "You're like something out of a horror movie," Hotch said quietly to Henry, who subsequently hid his face in Emily's neck.

"What?" Emily asked, turning.

"Nothing…"

Charlotte obliged in opening a few gifts without anyone's help, then in making the expected mess out of her cake, letting Hotch and Garcia get enough pictures to wallpaper a room.

"I can't believe it. A whole year old," Morgan said later in the evening as lifted the baby into the air, looking up at her.

"I wouldn't do that. She ate her weight in cake, you know," Emily warned as she scraped off leftover food into the trash. No one else was in the kitchen besides the three of them.

"Good point. No pukin' in Uncle Derek's face, kid." Charlotte squirmed in a request to be put down, and Morgan acquiesced. "Fine, I see how it is," he said, chuckling, as Charlotte toddled away.

"Don't take it personally. Ever since she started walking, that's all she's wanted to do," Emily told Morgan. "The only person she'll let hold her for more than a minute is Aaron, and even he's not allowed to hold her sometimes.

"Speaking of _Aaron_," Morgan said mockingly, leaning sideways against the countertop, "how are things?"

"What things?" Emily asked, not trying to disguise her attempt at stalling as anything but what it was.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about…"

Emily raised her eyebrows. "I'm not sure I do…"

"Oh come on, Emily, not _that_. I'm not that nosy. Not yet, anyway. I just want to know if you're happy, that's all."

Emily relented and grinned. "Oh, that. I've never been happier. And I mean that."

"I don't doubt it. Gonna pop out another niece or nephew for us all?"

"Not planning on it, unfortunately."

"If it's unfortunate, then why don't you plan on it?" Morgan quipped.

Emily shrugged and turned to her task at hand again. "It's just…three's enough…you know? Neither one of us thought we'd ever have this many kids anyway. This is perfect. Another baby would be great but it would just be too much."

"If you say so. None of us will cry if the condom breaks, though." Morgan gave Emily a hug and a kiss on the cheek from behind. "All right, my lady awaits. I must leave you."

"Oh, you should've brought her. The more the merrier."

Morgan laughed. "She's an only child and both her parents were only children. She's still traumatized from Christmas here. Double date sometime, though?"

"Yeah, sure. Sounds great."

—

Once the house was free of guests except for Sean, he and Hotch found themselves in the basement rifling through old boxes. Upon printing a couple of Charlotte's birthday cake pictures, Emily had asked Hotch if he still had any of his own baby pictures and had sent them on the hunt. Hotch sensed she was forcing him into some one-on-one time with his brother; even though he'd had plenty of time for conversation with Sean and Rossi during the party, none of it had been private, and Emily seemed intent on Hotch opening up to someone besides her.

"What about those little brag books?" Sean asked, setting one large moving box aside and picking up a shoebox. "Those had a lot of baby pictures, all the little milestones. I don't know where mine are; maybe you have them. I think there's plenty of you on the toilet," he cracked. "Oh—hey, what's _this_ now?"

When Hotch looked to Sean, who held up a small velvet ring box, he cursed silently; he had completely forgotten that he had hidden the ring in that particular shoebox.

"Is this what I think it is?" Sean asked. "Can I see?"

"Go for it," Hotch said resignedly, looking through the shoebox for the small brag books Sean had mentioned. He found them and set them aside.

"Well, that there's a rock," Sean said quietly with a whistle. "When exactly did you get this? You've been together for about a month, right?"

"Right."

"So…?"

Hotch sat down on a plastic bin full of clothes that Jack had outgrown but Henry hadn't grown into. "I bought it on Christmas Eve."

"And when exactly did you guys get together again?"

"The night before."

"Guess you're serious then," Sean laughed, handing over the box.

"Did I ever seem like I wasn't?"

"I'm joking, idiot. When're you gonna ask?"

"I'm not sure yet. I don't know if I want to stage something elaborate or just wait until the moment is right."

"Do you think you'll do it soon, either way?"

"I don't know."

"Wow, you're really decisive. Talk to me. Something wrong?" Sean found his own plastic bin to sit on.

"Everything's great," Hotch said, clasping his hands between his knees. "I got a promotion at work, by the way."

"No shit? Nicely done. Nice raise?"

"Very nice raise. It's nice to have things going our way for a change. And we didn't really need it, per se, but it feels nice to be able to provide more for them."

"That sounds so much like you it's not even funny. How about the kids? They're all fine? They seem fine."

"Fine, yeah. Although Henry's jealousy of me has reached a somewhat unsettling level."

"Understandable. You're mackin' on his girl. And Emily? How's she?"

Hotch smiled, though he knew the conversation wouldn't stay friendly and surface-level for long. "She's great."

"Good." But Sean detected that Hotch's smile was fading. "Okay, what's on your mind, really? You have pretty much the perfect life here. Got the girl of your dreams, got the kids, the job…are you bored or something?"

As Hotch put the ring away where Sean had found it, he thought of Emily, who was upstairs putting the kids to bed and probably under the impression that he was going somewhere beyond small talk with his brother. He couldn't help but wonder if she really wanted anyone else knowing about her past, or if it was a great sacrifice she was willing to make for his well-being. Did he need to talk about this with someone else? Would it ease the tension or simply ensure that his issues—their issues—remained in the forefront of his mind?

"Aaron." Sean gave a tiny wave, trying to get his brother's visual attention.

"Remember when you stayed here last year and had to help with the baby and run to the store in the middle of the night? And all I told you was that it was something in her past?"

"Yeah…"

"And how you said you wouldn't ask why, that you wouldn't snoop?"

"Yeah…I take it I'm going to find out now?"

"If it's something you're curious about," Hotch said after a long pause.

"Of course, if it's okay. You guys are my family. It does seem a bit funny that there's something big going on behind the scenes that I don't know anything about."

"Well, before I even get into it, Emily actually encouraged me to talk to someone about this, God only knows why, but she wanted me to make sure you understood that she's okay, so there's no need to, I don't know, check in on her or anything like that."

Sean leaned forward, looking more worried than Hotch had foreseen. "Is she sick or something?"

"Not really in the sense I think you're thinking. We were on a case about…four years ago, in Los Angeles. Long story short," Hotch said, not wanting to recount the details that incriminated him, as he had been in command and had approved the plan, "she was abducted by two men who spent a day and a half sexually abusing her." Hotch was surprised he had made it this far with dry eyes, though he supposed in retrospect that it seemed more therapeutic than anything to share this story with someone else. Emily had been right so far. "All she's ever told me is that they didn't rape her, but that almost makes it worse, because I've spent hours upon hours wondering what else they possibly could have done to her for that long."

"Wow. I'm…sorry. But you said she's okay right now?"

Hotch nodded quickly. "She's fine, yeah. That night you were here, she was having a flashback. Her worst that I know of, actually. She found a good therapist, though, and she'd been fine for months until a few weeks ago, when she had another one." Hotch didn't find it prudent to mention the context in which Emily had had her most recent flashback, or even that something similar had happened when they had visited Sean last summer. Hotch was already well outside of his comfort zone in terms of sharing secrets.

"Do you know what brought it on?"

Hotch closed his eyes. Of course Sean would ask that; Hotch had left the door wide open. "It happened at a rather inopportune moment, if you catch my meaning."

"Got it. So she's back to having those, what are they? Flashbacks, you said?"

"Flashbacks, yes, but no, she only had the one. It was just enough to throw me off. _She_ hardly seems affected. She's mad at herself because she was over-thinking things, so she says, and was asking for a flashback, but she's eager to try again. All _I_ can think about is how it happened because of something I said, which she finally confessed to me a couple of weeks ago when we tried again and I just couldn't get into it, because all I could think about was her having another flashback. I've been around for enough of them to know how miserable they make her, and I guess my brain is overriding everything." Hotch chanced a glance up at his brother, who was staring at the floor. "I'm sorry," he said flatly, rubbing his own thighs. "You didn't ask to hear all of that."

"No, it's fine. That's what I'm here for. I don't think I've ever heard you talk for that long about something so personal but it's good. I think Emily was right. It sounded like you needed to get this off your chest."

"I guess I did, but ultimately I'm not sure how much it'll help." Hotch ran his fingers through his hair, grasping the ends with enough force to make himself cringe. "I can't even begin to tell you how frustrating it is. When we agreed to get into a relationship, I had to know that I'd be okay with a relationship that might never be sexual. But I always thought it would be about Emily, you know? I never thought _I'd_ be holding things up."

"Sounds like you're the one over-thinking it now. And that's my unsolicited two cents," Sean said, sitting back and crossing his arms.

"How do I _not_ think about it? When you tell yourself not to think about something, it usually doesn't work," Hotch argued.

"Distract yourself with something else, I dunno. Or maybe let her take charge, so it doesn't feel like it's _you_ doing something to _her._ I know you probably don't like the idea of being dominated—"

"What on earth would make you think that?" Hotch asked, his lips curling up into a small smile.

Sean laughed. "I'll bet my fuckin' restaurant you were on top. But if she wants to get back into it, maybe you should let her take the reigns."

Hotch let his mind wander there for a moment, tried to figure out if that was a feasible solution. He certainly didn't mind the idea of submitting, even if Sean's profile of him was somewhat accurate, but he wasn't sure if it would convince him on all levels that Emily would be all right.

"Just some food for thought, and my last unsolicited two cents," Sean said with a smirk. "Let's bring these upstairs. It's humiliation time."

Emily sat between the Hotchner brothers as they both perused their own photo albums. As Emily marveled over both, with the occasional giggle and jabs Hotch's way, Hotch couldn't keep his heart from deflating. Ten minutes ago, his biggest worry had been about sex. Now it was wondering whether Emily was dead set on not having her own children. Not only did he want that for her, because he knew it had been one of her deepest-seeded desires for such a long time, but seeing what he looked like forty-five years ago made the heartbreak raw and real all over again. He hadn't lied when he said he was happy with what they already had. But perhaps he hadn't been entirely honest when he had insisted he would be equally happy without a child of their own.

"Okay, what's up?" Emily asked once the house was tucked away and quiet, Sean getting an actual guest bedroom this time. "You were all flirty earlier and now you look like someone killed your puppy." Emily climbed into bed with Hotch's photo album in her hand, wanting to look through it again.

Hotch lay down next to Emily and locked his fingers over his stomach. "I talked to Sean," he said, his eyes closed. He wouldn't touch on the baby subject, as he'd promised he wouldn't.

"Oh, good. About the elephant in our bedroom?" Emily asked casually, flipping through the album.

"Yeah."

"How'd it go?"

"I don't know," Hotch admitted. "You were right in that it felt good to confide in someone else, but it brought everything back to mind, and now I'm right back to where I was. I'm sorry. I don't think it's going to happen tonight. We can try—"

"No sense in forcing it. I'm sure it'll happen eventually, when we're both ready. If you're not feeling it then it's not going to be as good as it will be if we just let it happen a bit more organically. But for future reference, is there anything that turns you on that I don't know about? You know, besides damaged women and ugly furniture?"

Hotch cast Emily a sardonic glare from down below, prompting her to flick back his hair and pinch the tip of his nose.

"Seriously, what gets your motor running?" Emily slid down next to Hotch and scratched lightly at his chest, which was bare thanks to an uncooperative thermostat that had kept the entire house about five degrees too warm all day.

"I don't know, it's been so long."

"Well, when you take those extra long showers, what are you thinking about specifically? Leather bustiers? Catholic schoolgirl uniforms? Sex in the car? What?"

Hotch chuckled, his body warming further as some of his anxiety melted away at the lighthearted conversation. "Actually, sex in the car is one of my favorites."

"Is it just in a car specifically, or is it the idea of maybe getting caught that turns you on?" Emily asked.

"I think it's the latter in general. There's absolutely nothing wrong with the bedroom, don't get me wrong. And to be honest I haven't done much outside of it. But I've always kind of fantasized about more public places, even though I'll probably never go there."

"So, joining the Mile High Club, things like that?"

Hotch grinned. "Yeah. But like I said, I'd probably never do it. I guess that's why they're still fantasies."

"Never say never," Emily said, patting his chest. "But guess what."

"Hmm?" Hotch wrapped an arm around Emily and drew her closer.

"I really don't want you to beat yourself up over this. I know you want to make love again and actually finish, and so do I, and that means it'll happen eventually. And when it does, it will be absolutely amazing. For now, we're still rather proficient at good old-fashioned making out. Maybe I'll even let you give me a hickey if you're good."

Hotch was grateful for the distraction, though he knew it wasn't powerful or long-lasting enough to overcome his uneasiness. However, he had to agree with Emily. Stressing over the issue was getting him nowhere fast, and forced sex was never as good as that of the spontaneous variety. Not for him, anyway.

"I love you," he said, turning to kiss her shortly.

"And I love you. Ooh, guess what," she said with sudden excitement.

"Ooh, what?" he mocked.

"Your brother likes my old furniture better than your old stuff, and better than this stuff."

"We're talking about sex and making out and you somehow find a way to sneak my brother in there?" Hotch asked incredulously.

"Actually, I made no attempt whatsoever at making that fit into the conversation." Emily smiled and placed a kiss on Hotch's shoulder. "I just wanted to make sure I told you before I forgot. Actually, I did mention ugly furniture turning you on, so I think this comment does fit. But I'll stop talking about your brother and sex in the same breath."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Trust me, I don't think of having sex with your brother," she added.

"That's not even funny," Hotch said, laughing anyway.

"Not out in the back yard in the middle of the night, or on a beach…" She tried to pull away but Hotch kept his grip on her and rolled on top of her. Her banter still wasn't quite distracting enough, but he couldn't let her get away with her antics, not when she so clearly wanted to be punished for them, as indictated by her guilty giggles.

"Stop it," he said, still laughing. "No more talking about him in bed, period. It's not okay."

Emily gave Hotch a winning smile and yanked him down for a closed-mouth but forceful kiss that drew a moan from deep within him. Emily let her head drop with a _thud_ into her pillow as she sighed and closed her eyes. "Do you have any idea how happy I am?" she asked.

"Rhetorical question?"

Emily nodded and opened her adoring eyes. Her fingers tickled the nape of his neck as thought for a while, then spoke. "I've been in relationships before where 'I love you's have been exchanged, and back then, I thought I meant it, but being with you just makes all my other relationships seem so insignificant. I don't think I had any idea what love really meant until I fell in love with you. As cliché as it sounds, I think you should know that." Hotch could think of no sufficient response to that, and Emily, detecting this, continued. "I mean, you can care about someone deeply, but this is an entirely different dimension. I've never been with anyone who had me thinking for more than a couple of days that I couldn't picture myself ever being with anyone else, faceless or not. But I've felt that way about you for I don't even know how long, even when I thought we would never come this far—then, it was heartbreaking, not being able to see anyone else waiting at the end of the aisle, so to speak. But now…when I think about it, I feel unstoppable. So from now on, no matter what gets in our way, I'm going to remind myself of that."

Hotch's pulse had skyrocketed by the time Emily reached the end of her monologue. She'd elucidated his own feelings rather effectively without even trying, and he could think of only one way to react. "I'll be right back." He left her with a kiss that was meant to be appeasing, but she sat up on her elbows anyway as Hotch slid out of bed and headed to the door.

"Where are you going?"

"To the basement. I need to get something. Be right back."

"Good luck finding it. I'm surprised you guys even found those albums. We really need to go through some of that stuff and purge…"

"Don't worry, I know exactly where it is. Hang on."

**A/N: Please leave a review! No account needed, and no need to be a wordsmith, either. I'd just love to hear what you think.  
**


	97. The Porch and the Couch

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**

Hotch thought little about how he had left Emily hanging after such a heartfelt proclamation; his main focus was on getting to the ring, thinking, in the meantime, of the words that would accompany its presentation. As he lifted the lid off the shoebox of interest, he also realized that a proposal in bed might not be the most romantic thing, at least not by his own definition of romance. Certainly, there was something to be said about loving Emily so much, and, once he had finally gotten her, having not an ounce of doubt as to whether he would marry her, and buying an engagement ring the very next day. When she found out that part of the story, surely she would be touched. But the bedroom didn't scream sentimental.

When Hotch got to the top of the basement stairs, he still had nothing planned in the way of a speech of any sort, but he was beginning to think of other locales. Once he'd made his decision in that regard, he continued up to the second floor. All he could think of now was that he needed something to say; so intently was he focused on the fact that he had nothing to say, that he couldn't actually stop, think, and solve that problem. He hoped that by the time he got Emily to the spot he'd chosen, something would come to him.

"Close your eyes," he told her as he approached their bedroom door. He had no pockets in which to hide the ring, so he waited until Emily announced that her eyes were closed before he stepped into their room and over to the closet.

"What are you looking for?" she asked when she heard a dresser drawer opening inside the expansive closet.

"I already have it. I'm just getting dressed." Once Hotch had pulled on a pair of jeans, he took the ring out of its box and tucked the box into the pocket of one of his suit jackets. Once the ring was safely tucked into his jeans pocket, he told Emily she could open her eyes again.

"What's going on?" she asked, only somewhat warily; if Hotch hadn't sounded so chipper, she would have been more worried.

"Dress warm," he said as he pulled a sweatshirt over his head.

"Why? Are we going somewhere?" Ludicrous as Hotch's command was, Emily got out of bed and passed by Hotch in the closet as she looked for some sweatpants.

"Just outside."

"It's twenty degrees out," she felt the need to point out, but not testily so. "Are we going to make snow angels or something?"

Hotch chuckled. "No more questions from you. Just get dressed."

"All right," Emily said with an amused resignation. She put on her warmest sweater and a pair of thick socks before following Hotch downstairs. "It's nice and cool down here," she whispered when they got to the front door. "Bedroom's a sauna."

"Hot air rises," Hotch said, stepping into his boots.

"How long are we going to be outside?" Emily asked, putting on her boots, too, and clearly wondering whether she needed a jacket.

"Hopefully not long," Hotch replied. He remembered he still hadn't thought of what to say, so he decided winging it was his only option. He was already flying by the seat of his pants; writing a proposal speech as he went along seemed par for the course at this point.

The cold hit Hotch like a brick wall when he disarmed the alarm, turned on the porch light, and let them outside. An inch of crunchy snow lined the grass, but the porch was clean. The chairs were put away for winter, leaving the only seating option the brick ledge that lined the porch.

—

Emily regretted sitting on the ledge as soon as she did, the chill rushing through her veins and freezing them. She hugged herself to signify to Hotch that she was cold and wanted to get the show on the road, whatever the show happened to be. She was also cautious, though, to maintain a friendly, open demeanor. Obviously, whatever Hotch wanted her to see or do out here was important to him if he needed them to get dressed and come out here in the middle of the night. But she had to ask. "What's going on? Is there something you wanted me to see?"

"Well, kind of," Hotch said, his voice quavering. Emily assumed it was due to the biting cold. "I was just thinking, we've had a lot of good conversations out here, right?"

"Umm, yeah," Emily said, wishing she'd gone for the jacket. She thought better of voicing the fact that she felt like her nipples were going to freeze off. "Lots of good conversations. Why?" Her teeth chattered even though she tried to stop them. This compelled Hotch to come pull her into his arms and rub his hands up and down her back vigorously.

"I just wanted to talk about something else. Really quickly, I hope."

Emily nodded as Hotch backed away. She trusted that in due time she would find out why this conversation was taking place outside on a bitter January night. She truthfully had not a clue what Hotch was up to, not until he reached into his pocket, kept his fist closed protectively, and sunk down to the porch on one knee. Once the nature of the situation dawned upon her, her hands moved from tucked under her arms to covering her mouth.

"I honestly don't really know if I can think of anything original to say to you," Hotch started, staring first at Emily's feet, but then up at her. "What you said upstairs, just a few minutes ago, I wish I'd thought of it first. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that you're the one I want to grow old with. And you're right—that feeling is amazing, and it transcends everything we've gone through and everything we'll go through in the future. That…one certain thing _more _than makes up for everything else. And I figured, after you said that, that if I know now that I don't see myself with anyone else, and _you_ don't see _your_self with anyone else, and if we've already lived together and I already know that you…I don't know, that you never close the shower curtain when you're done showering, and that you bring cookies to bed and get the crumbs in the sheets, and if _you_ know that _I _leave empty coffee mugs lying around and I don't take the little plastic ring off the milk jug when I open it…if we already know all of those little annoying things about each other, that we know what it's like to live together, and if we already know that this is what we want, then why wait? I know it's only been a month, but I hope you know that I've been in love with you for so much longer than I've been allowed to say it. And I know we don't have all our issues worked out yet, but I think that in the grand scheme of things, those don't matter. This—us knowing that this is what we want, and knowing how hard we've worked to get here—this is so much more important. I love you, and I always will. And I guess for not knowing what to say, I said quite a bit, so I'll stop there." Hotch opened up his fist and proffered the ring, tiny in comparison to his thumb and forefinger. "Emily, will you marry me?"

Emily hadn't moved an inch since Hotch had started speaking. The adrenaline coursing through her veins had warmed her, stopped the shivers, and sent tears to her eyes. Hotch had seemed to read her mind every step of the way. They _were_ both certain that they wanted one another as lifelong partners. They _did_ already know what it was like to live together, unlike most people who had been official for such a short time. They _did _still need to sort out a couple of things, but the love and devotion that Hotch embodied as he remained perched on one knee before her, waiting patiently, was, as he had put it, so much more important. These thoughts fluttered through her mind, each landing for a brief moment before they took off again, leaving her without a single misgiving two seconds after Hotch had uttered his last word. She nodded, minutely at first, not sure what the appropriate response was besides a "yes"; she couldn't even produce one of those right now. She had to think quickly of which hand was her left before giving it to Hotch when he reached out for it. It was immaterial that she had thought marrying him was inevitable. It was for that reason alone that she hadn't thought much about it, choosing to focus her attention on more current events. And it was also for this reason that he had succeeded in surprising her. She took a moment to glance at the ring, about whose loose fit she wasn't sure yet, as it was so cold out, while Hotch stood up. "Yes," she finally said. "Oh my God, Aaron..." Before she could say anything else, her lips found themselves occupied by a kiss and a smile. She laughed against him in disbelief, soon letting their mind-numbingly passionate but outwardly tame kiss transition into a bone crushing hug. For how long they stood there like that, she didn't know, but she couldn't imagine it mattering.

Not wanting to spend anymore time out in the cold, both of them practically flew back into bed not long thereafter, Hotch still in jeans, desperate to stave off the chill. They met dead center, noses touching, as Hotch explored every strand of Emily's hair, like he'd never felt it before. "We're getting married. I still can't believe it," Emily marveled. "I mean, I can, but at the same time, I can't. That makes sense, right?"

A light laugh escaped Hotch's lips as he rolled onto his back and opened up an arm for Emily, who gladly nuzzled into him. "Sure. Do you like the ring?"

"I actually haven't looked very closely yet," Emily admitted. "I was kind of distracted by the whole I'm-getting-married thing. I don't see how any woman can think past that long enough to inspect the ring."

"Well, are you collected enough to look at it now?"

"Maybe," Emily said, wriggling onto her back and bringing up her left hand. "You know, I've always seen other women's solitaires and thought they looked too big and gaudy, but this is perfect. Absolutely…wow. Where did you get this? _When_ did you get this is a more important question, actually. When have you had time to go ring shopping? Was Garcia in on this?"

Hotch laughed and squeezed Emily's shoulder. "She has no idea. I wasn't actually out shopping for it. I saw it when I was looking for your necklace. The saleslady was over by the engagement rings, and when I went to get her to take out a necklace—not the one I ended up getting you, by the way—this one caught my eye. I had no idea if it was truly you or not, it was just a gut feeling. If I was wrong and you have something else in mind, don't be afraid to say so. I want you to have—" Hotch had been too busy yammering on to realize that Emily had moved in for a kiss, one that silenced him and left him stunned long after it was over, even though it was brief.

"It's perfect. And don't get me started on how romantic it is that you bought it the day after we got our act together. And now that my hands are warming back up, it seems like it fits perfectly, too. I honestly don't even know what size ring I wear. I guess this size."

"Good." They met once more for a kiss that deepened, Hotch half turning to hover over Emily, the force behind his mouth pushing her head into her pillow. She gladly took all he had to offer, forgetting that they weren't the only two people in the world, forgetting that four others supposedly slept down the hall. The only thing that held her interest was a tongue swooping deftly around her own and the chills running the length her spine that came along with it. Hotch grew so fierce in his movements that she thought for a time that he might have been changing his mind on the other line they had yet to cross. Whether that was the case, she wasn't sure, but he did calm himself gradually, somewhat to her dismay. It could have easily been that he still wasn't completely ready, or perhaps he felt that taking that step would have robbed this moment of some of its significance, and if the latter was the case, which she highly suspected it was, maybe he was right. Emily quickly contented herself with the slow, more tender kissing that ensued. She could hear the sound the pillowcase made as she moved her head against it, the slight groaning of the mattress as Hotch lay back down in a less dominant position, still maintaining possession of Emily's lips.

They naturally drifted back into a real consciousness eventually, and Emily resumed her spot curled up in Hotch's arm after turning out her lamp. She pulled the covers tightly over her shoulder. "You're still wearing jeans," she noted.

"So I am," Hotch said with a chuckle. He scooted away from her and wrangled his jeans off under the sheets, pulling his sweatshirt off and turning out his lamp while he was at it, cloaking them in darkness. "You still cold?" he asked.

Emily shivered despite the extra heat in the room and the heavy bedclothes tucked around her. "Yeah." She nodded against the pillow, though Hotch couldn't see, and let him take her in again, delighting in the warmth of his chest. "You're like a furnace. I love it," she mumbled, kissing his skin and settling her cheek against it.

"I can't believe you're still cold."

"Me neither. I was actually warmer outside, to be honest. It might've had something to do with you down on one knee, making the world's sweetest proposal."

"I didn't plan a word of it. It was all rambling."

"I think that's why I loved it. And the porch is our place. It was a great idea."

—

Emily found sleep sooner than Hotch expected, her breathing soon slow and rhythmic against him. He tried to go to the same place, but every time he shut his eyes, all he could think about was how she had frozen during the entire proposal, her hands to her mouth, with tears rimming her eyes, and how he had gone on about God knows what for God knows how long. He tried to remember all of what he had said, but he was certain he was missing parts. Later, his mind wandered to visions of making love to her, like he'd wanted to do—and thought he'd finally be able to do—once they had gotten back up to bed, but which he'd refrained from initiating for fear that it would cheapen the moment.

The longer he lay awake, the more restless he became, until he felt his wakefulness might be contagious. He scooted away from Emily with the utmost care, putting his pillows underneath her cheek and waiting until he was sure her breathing was still even before he left the room. All of the other bedroom doors were shut, and Sean's light, now that Hotch checked, seemed to be out. His stomach growled on his way downstairs, in search of what, he wasn't sure. He supposed some food couldn't hurt, so he poured himself a heaping bowl of cereal, doused it with some milk, and sat himself in front of the television. He was about to flip channels when he remembered something that Sean had handed him earlier that evening. He went back into the kitchen and took an unwrapped video game off the top of the fridge. It carried a much higher rating than any game he would ever dream of letting the boys play. Sean had told him it was a good game, but dangerously addictive. Hotch didn't see what the harm could be right now, especially if he was just going to figure the thing out. The screen would probably tire his eyes out within half an hour, and he would be ready to head back up to bed.

—

Three hours later, Emily awoke for no apparent reason, other than perhaps an empty bed. When she squinted and tried to focus on the clock, she groaned. She heard nothing from the bathroom, and as far as she could hear, Hotch wasn't in the nursery, either. With two fingers, not sure why she felt the need to sneak, she opened their door, then tiptoed down the hallway until she could see down the stairs. A faint flashing of lights coupled with the all too familiar clicks of a video game controller told her all she needed to know. She walked a little further until she could confirm that Hotch was by himself. As she crept back to their room, she remembered what had happened before they had fallen asleep. She smiled and twisted the ring on her finger.

If the post-engagement euphoria had waned just enough for Hotch to get out of bed and play a video game, then certainly he couldn't consider it ruining the moment if he were to listen to his body and take the next step with Emily. The more she thought about it, the more she convinced herself that, before they had gone to sleep, when he had been kissing her without abandon, he had felt the urges he'd been missing, that his mind was finally done playing tricks on his body. There was an easy way to find out, and that would have been to ask him, but she thought that sounded a little dull. Before going back downstairs, she stripped down bare, her body temperature finally high enough for her not to shiver, and slipped on a short red silk robe that just touched her knees. During her move down the hall from her old room to this one, she'd hidden it away in the corner of her side of the closet when Hotch wasn't looking. She rarely got it out, and that was for a reason. It served no practical purpose, as it didn't keep her warm and hardly kept her covered, leaving her feeling downright naked wearing it. But she supposed that was for the better as she knotted the thin belt and walked back down the hall, not bothering to sneak this time.

Hotch sat on the couch, zombie-like, with his feet propped up on the coffee table next to half a bowl of cereal. "Hey," she said softly from a few feet away, not wanting to startle him.

He did jump a little, but the important part was that he didn't yell, not that she could ever picture him yelling in fright, she supposed. He returned her greeting without looking.

"What on earth are you playing? We didn't buy the boys this game."

"Sean bought it for me," Hotch explained as Emily walked up behind the couch and wrapped her arms loosely around his neck, propping her chin up on his head.

"Is that a _hooker_?"

"I think so. All I know for sure is that I can hit her with my car. It's fun in a sick way."

Emily had to bite her lip to keep from cackling. "That's…lovely. How long have you been down here playing this?"

"Since about one, I think. What time is it now, two?"

"It's four," Emily informed him. She took to rubbing gentle circles on his chest while he remained consumed by the game. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah, everything's great. You don't remember? We got engaged a few hours ago."

"I know we did, smartass. And I'm still giddy. You have no idea. I was just wondering why you've been up playing video games and eating cereal for three hours. You're sure everything's okay?"

"I only ate cereal for about two minutes," Hotch corrected her, gesturing toward the soggy mess. "As for the video game, no idea. Couldn't sleep."

"Well, are you tired now?"

"Not really."

"Maybe you should turn the game off, then. Sounds like it's making things worse."

"It's eerily fun, though."

"Aaron…" Emily extended her reach, grabbing the controller from Hotch's hand. She took a guess at what button might pause the game and got lucky. "Can I ask you something?" she asked, putting the controller down.

Hotch sighed. "Better be good," he joked.

Emily stood straight and moseyed around the couch, fingering the belt on her robe.

"I…definitely did not know you owned that," Hotch said with a smirk.

"I went through great lengths to make sure of that, pajama fiend," Emily assured him. She came between Hotch and the television screen, casting a shadow over him, darkening the space between them considerably. She swung one leg over both of his, then knelt at the edge of the couch before placing her hands on either side of his head.

"I thought you had a question," Hotch said with a quiet laugh right before Emily smothered his mouth.

**_- Content edited starting here - _**

"I did," Emily said when she broke away before Hotch could get his tongue between her lips. "My question was…Earlier, when we were in bed, before we fell asleep, I could've sworn you wanted to try again, but maybe you thought it wasn't a good time, and I wanted to know if I was right. Because I want you to know that that shouldn't hold you back. What better way to end tonight then with two things taken care of? So…were you thinking about it?"

Even in the dim light, she could see his Adam's apple bob up and down. "Well…yeah, but—" Hotch stopped when Emily sat in his lap, her knees straddling him. "Em, there are other people in the house," he stammered, reaching behind him to grab the blanket that hung over the back of the couch.

"I'm fully aware." She took Hotch's hand away from the blanket. "I'm also aware of something else." She sat back on his knees. "Do you know what that is?"

A very faint smile lit Hotch's face. "I have no idea what you're talking about. All I can think about is the fact that there are…four other people upstairs, and you're sitting naked on my lap in the living room, and my mind stops there."

Emily let out very soft giggle. "Keep going…you're on the right track," she urged him.

"Honey, seriously, anyone could wake up and—"

"Bingo." Emily placed her lips on Hotch's neck, right below his ear. "Now, if I'm not mistaken…" She scooted her hips further into his lap, pushing them forward once their chests touched. She felt around. "Ooh, there we are."

"Point taken," Hotch said with a laugh, choking on his breath when Emily squeezed him in her hands. "Shit," he hissed.

"Think you're ready for another shot?"

"On the couch?" Hotch asked.

Emily grabbed the blanket Hotch had reached for earlier and whipped it open. "If it makes you feel better, we can cover up." She wore the blanket like a cape and closed in on him again.

"Tempting, but do you even have a condom with you? Because silly me forgot to stash some in the end table down here."

Emily moaned. "No, I forgot. Would it be terrible of me to say I'll let you go without?"

Hotch laughed. "Why would that make you terrible?"

Emily shrugged, sighing when Hotch's hands, underneath the blanket, roamed down her back and to her hips. "I have almost no qualms about doing this here. I love you, and I love that you're riled up—_really_ riled up—right now."

"I could pull out," Hotch reasoned.

"Okay then."

"Really?" Hotch asked.

Emily laid a kiss on Hotch's jaw and wondered how bad it would really be if she ended up pregnant without trying. She didn't entertain these thoughts, though, instead choosing to keep herself in the moment. She didn't want to think about what might have happened had she sat down and outlined her thought process before accepting Hotch's proposal. The over-thinking habit didn't need to reprise its role here, either. "Mm-hmm. Yeah."

"Just…make sure you tell me if anything feels not right."

"I promise I will. And I also promise that nothing you can do will actually hurt me, okay? Keep your head away from all of that."

Hotch murmured his assent right before Emily took a firm hold on him again, drawing out a deep sigh of surprise. He was finally blissfully unaware of everyone else in the house until he heard a creak upstairs. "What was that?"

"What was what?" Emily asked.

"Someone's moving upstairs."

"It's probably just the house settling."

"_Probably_, but what if one of the boys got out of bed? God forbid I kiss you, let alone…well, you know. I think Henry would evict me."

"Well, you do own the house, and Henry's three years old, so I don't think he can evict you. But if you really don't want to do this down here…" She started to hope he would ask to go upstairs. She had gotten caught up in the moment, and if Hotch hadn't stopped them, she would have gladly played exhibitionist for a night. But going upstairs had its appeal.

"Yeah, I can't, I'm sorry. Upstairs, definitely, and maybe on the couch someday when no one else is in the house."

Emily laughed into Hotch's neck and backed off of him, throwing him the blanket. "They're fantasies for a reason, right?"

Hotch took one last good look at Emily's body before she secured her robe around it. "Right."

"Guess what," Emily whispered on their way up the stairs. They had left the television on and the cereal out. Hotch followed behind her with the blanket wrapped around his waist.

"What?"

She turned around and gave him a silly grin. "I think I want to marry you. How does that sound?"

"That sounds like a fine plan," Hotch said once he shut and locked the door behind them. He pulled Emily in by the cheeks and sucked on her bottom lip. "I'd like to make you scream. How does _that_ sound?"

Emily had lost the robe again before Hotch could think about being the one to take it off. "Make it happen, and you'll find out."

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**


	98. Me or the Babysitter?

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**

"Wow," was all Emily could say at first.

"Agreed," Hotch said between labored breaths. He swallowed and willed his heart to slow down.

"I think we just set the bar pretty high."

"Then I guess we'll have—a good time trying to raise it higher."

"The middle of the bed is pretty adventurous," Emily deadpanned. "Maybe the foot of the bed next time? Then we can maybe talk about, ooh, I don't know, the shower?"

Hotch laughed again. "You might be marrying the wrong man."

The reminder was very welcome. Emily brought her left hand close to her face as she rolled into Hotch's side. "We're getting married," she said in an almost sing-song voice. "I challenge you to make me any happier. I really do."

Hotch grinned and turned to his side, giving Emily a controlled but heartfelt kiss. "Challenge accepted."

—

"That walk. I know that walk," Sean said a few hours later when Hotch surfaced from his bedroom and rounded the bottom of the stairs. His brother was overly peppy for seven o'clock in the morning on a Saturday. Hotch raised a half-amused, half-not eyebrow at him and headed for the coffee. "Somebody got some," Sean teased.

"Got some what?" Jack asked, coming into the living room.

"Thanks," Hotch muttered to Sean. "Got some _sleep_," he said to Jack. "That's what your uncle Sean meant. I hear another episode of your show starting. Go watch, all right?" He ruffled his son's hair and watched him trot off to the living room.

"So?" Sean asked. "Am I right?"

Hotch rolled his eyes. "We need better insulation."

"Oh, no worries, you didn't have an audience," Sean assured Hotch. "I slept like a baby. But I totally know that walk. I am right, right?"

"Possibly," Hotch said with a grin as he poured himself some of that coffee.

"Well, well. Excuse the frat boy in me while I pat you on the back."

Hotch moved his coffee mug away from his face before Sean pounded him on the back as promised. "There's other news, too, not that my S-E-X life is supposed to make headlines," Hotch said quietly before taking a sip of his morning addiction.

"What's that?" Sean asked out of reflex, knowing exactly what Hotch was referring to once he thought for a moment.

"Duhhh-duh-duh-duhhh," Hotch sang under his breath, a smile creeping across his lips when Sean's recognition of the Wedding March confirmed his suspicions.

"_Really_?" Sean looked infinitely more delighted at this development. "Seriously? What, did you ask in the middle of the night?"

"Not long after you went to bed. Then I couldn't sleep, so I got up and played that game you gave me. You were right, by the way. Total crack."

"So _that's_ why Jack was blasting someone's head off with a machine gun when I got up this morning. I was wondering how he got a hold of that."

Hotch almost choked on his coffee. "Are you serious? Damn it, I think I did leave the TV on with that game in."

"And a nasty ass bowl of cereal. Don't worry, I took the game away and hid it in the cabinet over the sink while he wasn't looking. And the little guy isn't up yet. So it's just Jack that's going to turn into a social deviant."

"Good to know."

"So, first comes love, then comes—you know—then comes…offspring?" Sean said, resting his elbows on the counter and shooting his brother a toothy smile. His smile faded along with Hotch's, though. "Okay, touchy subject, I guess. No more on that. In all seriousness, congratulations. I'm happy for you, Aaron."

"Thanks." They each drank their coffee in silence for a while. "I'm glad you're here. Not just today, but, you know, back in my life again, in Jack's life. Don't even get me started on how you've treated everyone else like family, too."

"They are," Sean said matter-of-factly as he shrugged his shoulders. "It's pretty nice to actually have a family again, to be honest. If my restaurant ever goes under, I'll be knockin' on your door."

"Don't say things like that," Hotch chided.

"Speaking of the restaurant, it beckons. Gotta head out soon. Is Emily up yet? I'd like to congratulate her before I go."

"She's showering. She wanted to see you off, so she shouldn't be much longer."

"All right. Breakfast?"

"There's some bacon in the fridge, I think," Hotch said. "Wanna get that and whip up some eggs and I'll make some pancakes?"

"Pancakes?" Jack shouted from the other room.

"Selective supersonic hearing," Hotch mumbled. "Yes, pancakes," he called back.

"Not banana again, those are gross!"

"I was thinking chocolate chip anyway. Why don't you go wake up your brother?"

Jack was only gone for a minute before Emily came downstairs, wearing a bathrobe and wet hair and carrying a sleepy-eyed baby on her hip. "Charlotte was eying the stairs like she finally wants to try them," Emily told Hotch once he was in sight. "We could only be lucky for so long, I guess. Time for baby gates."

"Noted."

"Look who it is," Sean said with a smirk. "My soon to be sister, eh?" he said, lowering his voice.

Hotch took Charlotte from Emily out of habit and watched with a swelling heart as his fiancée and brother embraced tightly. Sean congratulated Emily and added a kiss on both cheeks, squeezing her face. "Thank you," she said, laughing.

"Let me see the rock," Sean said, reaching for Emily's hand. "Just kidding. Already saw it."

"By mistake," Hotch said. "I didn't hide it well enough."

"Ahh, so that's what you guys were looking at in the basement?"

"How do you like your eggs?" Sean asked Emily suddenly, opening the fridge.

"Excuse me?"

"These kind," Sean said with a laugh, holding up a carton. "Sounds like someone's got babies on the brain." When he saw the stink eye that his brother shot him, his grin disappeared. "Sorry, couldn't help myself. So, should I stick around for a big dinner where you can tell everyone?"

Emily laughed. "I don't think we'll be hosting everyone for a while. We have twice in the last month. My parents are overseas, so I'll call them, and we can have Jessica over for dinner. As for everyone else, I think we'll drop by the office Monday, maybe. How does that sound?" she asked Hotch, pouring her own coffee.

"You're really willing to wait until Monday?" Hotch said in awe.

"Well, I won't wait that long to tell Garcia. She'd murder me. I'll send her a picture of the you-know-what in a couple of hours. It's early."

"I doubt she'd be looking at the clock after seeing that."

"Okay, well, let me put it this way. Do you really want Penelope Garcia in your house at seven-thirty in the morning? Because you know she'll drive here in her pajamas the second she finds out."

"She's got a point. Eggs?" Sean asked Emily again, wiggling the carton. He sported an impish look that earned him a look from Emily too, albeit a friendlier one than Hotch had given him.

"What, did you enlist him or something?" she asked Hotch, who held up his hands innocently.

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Scrambled, please." Emily smiled softly at Sean, deciding at least not to tell him there would be no future children. The boys ambled into the kitchen just then, Henry rubbing his eyes. Emily was about to crouch down, but he passed her in favor of Sean, who gladly picked him up and cooked with one hand.

"Ah, I see how it is. You still love me, right, Jack?" he said, opening an arm to him; he gladly rested his cheek against her stomach.

"Uncle Sean, can you get that game out again, _please_?" Jack asked.

"What game?" Emily asked.

"The one with the guns and the knives and baseball bats and the cars!"

Hotch's eyes widened as Emily's honed in on them. "Don't pin this on me. You distracted me."

"Sorry, sweetie," Emily said, smoothing a hand through Jack's hair. "Your daddy's the only one who's big enough to play it and he's grounded from video games now."

"Sneak preview of the rest of your life," Sean said under his breath, chuckling and elbowing his brother in the side.

"I heard that," Emily said.

Hotch surfed through the cabinets for pancake ingredients, whispering to his brother, "It was completely her fault."

"Heard that, too."

**A/N: THIS CHAPTER HAS BEEN CUT OUT OF RESPECT FOR FFN'S CONTENT GUIDELINES. FULL VERSION MAY BE READ AT MY AO3 ACCOUNT UNDER "THE LOST CHAPTERS."**


	99. When Phone Cameras Come in Handy

Emily must have replayed the previous night's events fifty times by the time Hotch was showered and dressed. She smiled at her recollection of their discussion in bed that had prompted Hotch to go downstairs and get the ring. While he'd been gone, she hadn't really thought much of his sudden need to go "get something." She had figured it would be another photo album. When he'd shown up and told her to get dressed and come outside with him, she had known she was wrong, but had still had no idea what his game was. And then there was his proposal, which made her bite down on her lip to keep from crying when she thought back on it. His nerves had been endearing, and his words warmed her heart not because they were laced with trite compliments, or full of reasons why he loved her—he had merely spoken the truth. He'd summed up their entire relationship so perfectly, so much better than she ever could have. She supposed it was the first time she'd ever believed in the absolute power of love. Now that she thought back, of course, everything that Hotch had said had made perfect sense. Their love had gotten them through everything life had thrown at them, and it was only growing fiercer. What could stop them?

Her mind had wandered, eventually, to yet another replay of only a few hours ago, when they'd partaken in something that, a year ago, she thought she might never experience again. Unlike his proposal, which she wished she could have memorized word-for-word, she remembered every touch, every sigh, every word from their first time together that hadn't been interrupted by a phone or a flashback. Just as she was beginning to wonder if their lovemaking had been as profound for Hotch as it had been for her, he sneaked up behind the couch, where she sat with her feet tucked to the side, and ran a hand along the top of her head, over her still wet hair. To say he startled her would be an understatement.

"Sorry," he said, laughing, when Emily nearly jumped out of her skin. "Zoning out?"

"Thinking about last night," she replied, leaning her head back. Hotch stretched and craned his neck to place an upside down kiss on her lips.

"Yeah? What about it?" he asked, his fingers toying with the edge of her bathrobe.

"All of it," she said with a vague smile. "Come sit with me?"

"Charlie's trolling through the cabinets. I need to go stop her before she does too much damage."

"Oh my God, the baby," Emily gasped. "I'm seriously out of it. She could have tried to climb the stairs." She practically leaped from the couch, circling around it at warp speed, but Hotch stopped her with a palm to her chest.

"Relax, she's fine. Are the boys playing up in their room?"

"Actually, they both went back to sleep. I think they were up too late with Sean last night."

"A nap at ten in the morning?"

"To be honest, I could use one myself. Someone kept me up…" She pinched the collar of his sweater and waited until she felt his arms wrap around her before she placed the softest of kisses on his lips, smiling all the while.

"I was up even longer," Hotch noted.

"Yeah, killing hookers."

Hotch chuckled. "Am I really grounded?"

"You know I was joking."

"Of course. So am I."

"What Sean said to you about that being a sneak preview of the rest of your life—"

"He was joking, too."

"I know. Just, if I ever get too bossy—"

"A little late," Hotch said, guessing correctly which hand Emily would use and swiftly moving to the side just in time to avoid her punch to the gut.

"You think you're _so_ funny," she purred, pulling him close again.

"I know I am. So, have you alerted Garcia yet?"

"No, I wasn't sure what the morning was looking like. I think maybe we should let the boys get in their nap so we can tell them first. What do you think?"

"I guess that would result in less confusion when Garcia breaks the sound barrier the second she steps inside," Hotch quipped.

"Exactly. And I need to call my parents, too. Lots to do. But you know what?"

"Hmm?"

"I really want you right now. In such a bad way. I'm kind of resenting Charlotte for not napping right now. I'm awful, aren't I?."

"We could try putting her down. Maybe she'll go to sleep."

"You think?" Emily asked, loving the glimmer in Hotch's eye.

The clatter of a saucepan echoed in the kitchen. "Yeah," Hotch said, leading the way to procure Charlotte, who wore quite the victorious look on her face.

"Eh, I think we'd be terrible if we took that away from her and made her take a nap," Emily said remorsefully as she slung an arm around Hotch's waist and rubbed his side.

"Well…"

"What?"

"The pots and pans might wake the boys up. We wouldn't want that…"

"Just out of curiosity, how far would you go to sleep with me right now, now that I've mentioned it?" Emily inquired.

"Am I being a pig?"

Emily giggled softly. "Not any more than I am. I'm gonna go get dressed. Nice resolution jeans, by the way," she said with a grin, patting his butt.

"Thanks. Can I pick out your jeans?"

—

"Children dressed, lunch in our stomachs, everything put away…" Emily rattled off the list she'd made of things to use to procrastinate in telling the boys or her parents of the engagement. She wanted to share the news, of course, but she wasn't sure how to play to either audience.

"Sounds like it's time," Hotch said.

"What is a three-year-old's understanding of marriage, exactly?" Emily wondered aloud as Hotch stepped up to her and massaged her shoulders. "Or even a six-year-old's for that matter? Besides what his friends told him at school about all moms and dads being married or something like that?"

"How about we just wing it?" Hotch suggested.

"You are not the winging-it type."

"Quickly becoming one after last night." Hotch summonsed the boys, who were presently in the kitchen helping Charlotte empty the contents of the bottom cabinets, into the living room. "Besides, either way, I'm toast, at least with Henry."

"I think he'll be okay with it if we promise to keep it an open relationship," Emily said with a smirk.

Jack and Henry came into the room without needing to be called again, Charlotte trailing behind them. "Yeah, Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Mommy and I have some news," Hotch said uncertainly.

"We're going to get married," Emily said before Hotch could draw things out any longer.

Jack's eyes lit up. "Really?"

"Really," Hotch said with a chuckle.

"Now I'll be just like my friends," Jack said excitedly, clearly not caring what marriage actually meant, rather, thinking in terms of how the news would affect him. Emily realized she shouldn't have expected anything deeper from someone so young.

"We talked about that, Jack, remember?" Hotch said. "Everyone's family is a little different. We're not getting married just to be like other moms and dads. We're getting married because we love each other. Does that make sense?"

Jack nodded, though Emily didn't believe that Hotch's explanation really mattered to him. Jack was happy that his family was complete by his and his friends' definition. No matter the reason why the engagement made Jack happy, Emily was thrilled to see him embracing the news. She looked to Henry now, who looked like he hadn't a clue what was going on. However, when Hotch slipped an arm around Emily and she responded by moving closer and clasping his shoulder, Henry rushed over to her and hugged her knee. "Yes?" she asked sweetly, looking down at the top of his head.

"Pick me up, pwease."

"At least you're not completely ignoring the 'L' now," she said, happily bending over to hoist him up. "You are getting so big," she felt the need to say. "Why don't you go see Daddy? He's stronger than I am." In a pitiful attempt to stomp down Henry's jealousy issue, Emily handed Henry to Hotch. The boy latched on, but faced Emily and pouted.

"You know, Henry," Hotch said, "I love you, too. If you could stop being so bummed out about that, I'd appreciate it." He rolled his eyes at Emily.

"Daddy?" Jack asked.

"Yes?"

"When are you gonna get married? Today?"

Hotch shared a grin with Emily before he answered. "Not today. We don't know yet. There's some planning involved in a wedding."

"Oh." Jack's face went blank. "Can we go play again now?"

"Go for it." Hotch put Henry down and watched all three children make their way back into the kitchen, Charlotte seemingly keen on following her brothers wherever they went. "Well, that went pretty smoothly."

"Hopefully everyone else is that easy," Emily said, sitting down on the couch and lying back. Hotch joined her.

"Well, no one's really against us being together, not that I know of."

"Do you want to call Jessica while I call my parents?"

Hotch shrugged. He didn't speak right away, but the pensive look on his face told Emily to wait. "I understand that you want to tell your parents and Garcia, but…I'd like to sit back and just enjoy it, you know? Rather than spend all day telling everyone I know. We'll still be engaged tomorrow or Monday or whenever I feel like spreading the news."

Emily wore a concerned look on her face that Hotch didn't turn to see. "Do you not want me to tell Garcia or my parents yet?"

"No, no, no," Hotch said quickly, grabbing Emily's left hand, feeling the engagement ring, and playing with it. "I understand that you need to tell some people. And I don't mind. I'm just saying _I'd_ rather focus on us for the day. Make all the calls you need to. I'll just be enjoying myself."

"I forgot how private of a person you can be at times. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to push you."

"Don't worry about it. It's fine. But while we're on the subject of privacy…"

"Mm-hmm?"

"This might be too much to ask, but do you think you can hold off on sharing the other news with Garcia? I know it was a big step for you, but it was also a big step for us, and it's been…weird, to say the least, knowing that you've shared everything up to this point with both her and your therapist, but…"

Emily wanted to shrivel and die. She had known all along that her therapist knowing the details of her and Hotch's sex life, or, usually, lack thereof, had bothered Hotch, but she hadn't given sharing with Garcia much of a thought. "I'm sorry. I didn't know me talking to Garcia about that stuff was a big deal. I mean, I knew me talking to a stranger had to have been weird for you, but I didn't even think about it when it came to Garcia. I feel like a schmuck now. I really am sorry." She lay a hand on Hotch's chest and rubbed it in circles.

"Well, _then_ it was different. You were struggling, and you needed someone to talk to. So I tried not to let it bother me too much, because I knew it made you feel better. And it made me feel a little better to talk to Sean about it last night, so I definitely understand. But now that we're finally not struggling with it, I'm going back to my old mindset, where sex is private, you know? At least it always has been to me."

"Of course. I understand. I don't have to tell Garcia. Besides, I think the engagement news will be enough for her to scream over. So, am I correct in assuming you didn't tell Sean about that?"

"Well, not exactly. He guessed—apparently there was a bit of a spring in my step, and before I told him about the engagement, he started joking around about how I'd finally gotten some, and I just…didn't have the energy to lie. Plus, well…it's Sean. Sometimes I feel like even though he puts all this effort into being a part of the family, like driving such a long way for Charlie's birthday party, he doesn't know as much as everyone else. He's not as in the loop, even though we keep up on the phone. I feel guilty sometimes."

"That's understandable."

"Now I'm imposing a double standard. Never mind," Hotch said, sighing. "That wasn't fair of me. Tell Garcia anything you want, and don't worry about me. I'm being silly."

"No, it's okay. You don't flap your gums a tenth as much as I do. And like I said, I don't need Garcia to implode."

"Emily—"

Emily pulled away from Hotch so that she could make eye contact with him. A palm on his cheek, she said, "I would do anything for you. If it makes you uncomfortable for everyone to know our business, then that's fine. Not everyone needs to know our business."

Hotch looked like he was about to argue further, to get Emily to reconsider what she was saying, but a small smile won out. "Thank you. I appreciate it."

"It's no problem at all."

"If it comes up in conversation, though—you know, if she asks, then don't feel like you need to lie."

Emily shrugged again. "We'll see. The idea of no one knowing—well, except for Sean, I guess—it's…kind of nice. At least just for a little while, you know? But you do realize that everyone but Sean and Garcia will probably assume we've already slept together."

"That's different, though. That's not actual knowledge," Hotch noted.

"True. All right, I really do want to go call my parents." Emily felt a hand grasp her arm when she turned to get up off the couch. "Yes?" she asked, laughing quietly.

"Hang on. Come here." Hotch sat her back down and framed her face with both his hands. "I love you."

Emily smiled right back. "I love you, too." When she accepted an outwardly tame but inwardly heartfelt kiss from him, the thought that she would be spending the rest of her life with him, that she would bring up this family with him as his wife, he as her husband, caused her to forget what it was that she had planned on doing next.

"That's all I had to say," Hotch informed her.

"Right." Emily cleared her throat and rested her arms over Hotch's shoulders. "I, um…forgot what I was going to do."

"Call your parents?"

"Right."

—

"Has she replied at all?" Hotch asked Emily a while after she had announced that she had sent Garcia a picture of the ring, as planned.

"Yup. Three times. First two were phone calls with frantic voicemails asking if that was what she thought it was, and I ignored them. Last one was a text where she came just short of calling me a B-I-T-C-H for not answering her, and saying she's coming over right away."

"Then I guess your plan worked."

Emily grinned evilly. "It did."

"So you said your parents were happy. What did they say?"

"You should've sat in on the phone call with me."

"And let the kids burn down the house?" Hotch peeked out the back door, through which he could see Henry and Jack trying to make a snowman of some sort out of the little snow on the ground. It was unseasonably bitter that day. The cold coupled with Garcia's imminent arrival meant that the boys would probably be inside soon. Charlotte was doing figure-eights between Hotch's feet while he and Emily spoke.

"Good point. Well, my dad said you sounded like a nice guy, which was a hilarious understatement, because I think he absolutely loves you. He always told me growing up that I had to marry a gentleman. And my mom is absolutely thrilled." Emily wet her lips, not sure if she should share what came next, as she wasn't sure whether she herself were softening on the baby front, and she was thereby unsure whether sharing this bit of information was fair to Hotch. She went with her gut. "And then, of course, she gave the obligatory when-am-I-getting-more-grandbabies bit."

Apparently, Hotch was intent on keeping his word on not pushing the subject. He didn't take the bait, instead crouching down to pick up the baby, who yanked on his pant leg.

Emily's stomach lurched; she knew she'd made a mistake. It was easy to tell from the way Hotch remained silent, even though he'd been the one to ask about Emily's parents' reactions, and should have at least had some cursory remark about that being nice.

"I'm sorry. That was a dumb thing to say. This day feels so long already and it's only one-thirty," Emily complained, trying to change the subject. "I'm ready for it to be bedtime."

This remark, at least, earned her a little smirk from Hotch, as well as a twinkle in his dark eyes. "I'd be all right with that. Got a time machine?"

Emily gave a sultry laugh. "If I did, I'd be reliving last night over and over and over…" And at that, the doorbell rang. "Got earplugs?"

Hotch grinned and watched Emily walk off to the front door to let Garcia in. Charlotte was startled by Garcia's squealing and Emily's gentle laughter that issued from across the house. "Crazy ladies," he muttered to the baby, deciding that he at least needed to make an appearance. He joined Emily and Garcia near the front door, where the latter stood in her pajamas and slippers with no jacket. Neither she nor Emily noticed Hotch's arrival.

"I tried to wait until later in the day so I didn't wake you up. I can't believe you weren't dressed, I'm sorry," Emily said as Hotch watched on. Garcia was squeezing the living daylights out of Emily, who smiled helplessly.

"I wasn't actually planning on getting out of my pajamas today. It's too cold outside and too cozy inside. But this was definitely worth braving the cold for. I would have run here if I'd had to."

"In slippers," Hotch asked with a twist of his lips.

"_You! Come here!"_ Garcia abandoned Emily for the time being and almost didn't notice the baby as she hugged Hotch as well. "I don't even know what to say…"

The baby started to wail, either from her space being invaded or because she was past due for a nap. "Speechless? That's a first," Hotch teased. "I'm going to go put her down. You might want to check on the boys." He couldn't help but laugh to himself as Garcia's excitement rang through the entire house. "Very crazy ladies," he said to Charlotte. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, one of her telltale signs of sleepiness, but when Hotch put her down in her crib, she protested more vocally than she usually did. He didn't mind the idea of staying up here with her anyway, so he took a seat in the glider and put his feet up on the ottoman, letting her settle into him as she pleased, which, as always, meant that she lay flat, her tummy on his. She was out cold by the time Emily and Garcia moved their conversation into the living room, giving Hotch a perfect opportunity to eavesdrop. He didn't want to, though, so he tried to shut his eyes and maybe take a nap with Charlotte, but Emily's and Garcia's voices were loud enough to keep him awake. He resigned to listening in as Emily recited more details than Hotch could even remember. Her story was interrupted by short utterances of awe on Garcia's part. Since the boys were still playing outside—Hotch figured they hadn't yet noticed Garcia's presence—Garcia asked, without lowering her voice, how things were going on the "other front."

The shame set in quickly for Hotch when Emily explained that they weren't worried about that right now, that they were just happy to have taken this step, and that the sex could wait. He certainly hadn't wanted her to lie outright to her best confidant, but he felt relieved all the same that their love life wasn't being put on display for all to see. It had been a long time since he and Emily had had much privacy in their interactions. Thinking back, he realized that Garcia had been privy to pretty much everything since he and Emily had moved in together a year ago. For several months before that, his and Emily's interactions had been sparse and either awkward or hostile, nothing worth sharing anyway. So the last time they had had any sort of truly private relationship had been before Hotch had left the BAU. As much as he felt guilty for prompting Emily to withhold something so monumental from a good friend, the relationship felt a little more age-appropriate when not every detail was shared. Eventually, the boys came inside and flocked around Garcia, climbing all over her, he guessed.

A long night riddled with insomnia, among other more pleasant things, did leave Hotch quite drowsy. Charlotte stirred against him, reminding him of her presence, and then of what Emily had let slip earlier about her mother inquiring about grandchildren. As he fought his heavy eyelids, he wondered why Emily had mentioned her mother's question without expressing frustration. And why had she not said anything explicitly to Sean that morning when he'd harped on the same issue? Was he a fool to hope that maybe she was reconsidering having children?

The vision of her with a very pregnant belly roamed across his mind again, taunting him. He made an easy escape by letting sleep take him over.

—

Downstairs, Emily was wondering whether she'd ever get her left hand back. She'd offered to take the ring off and let Garcia look at it, but Garcia had insisted that ninety percent of its beauty was in the fact that it was on Emily's hand.

"He seriously made fun of you for eating cookies in bed as part of his proposal?" Garcia said, her hand over her heart. She picked Henry up absentmindedly. "That is the sweetest and least-Hotch-like thing I have ever heard."

"I only did it once."

"And that's what makes it so adorable. He remembered it under all that pressure. He obviously _loves_ that you eat cookies in bed, so you should make a habit of it."

"I wanna cookie," Henry said as Emily lovingly rolled her eyes at Garcia's comment.

"How about a kiss?" Garcia asked.

Henry shook his head. "Cookie."

"Where did your future hubby go?" Garcia asked Emily. "And you have no idea how long I've been waiting to say that. And then once you get married, I can leave off the 'future' part."

Garcia had a way of pointing out good things that Emily managed to miss. Emily herself didn't plan on ever uttering the word 'hubby,' at least not with an ounce of seriousness in her voice, but the prospect of Garcia having entirely new vocabulary opportunities was amusing to say the least. Once her mind finished processing that, Emily realized she had no idea where Hotch had disappeared to. Last she knew, he had gone upstairs to put the baby down for a nap, but that had to have been at least half an hour ago.

"No idea, actually. I'll go upstairs and look for him. We do have cookies on the top of the fridge, though. They can each gave a couple." Emily listened to the joyous noises a simple cookie could elicit from two little boys as she climbed the stairs. She stopped at the nursery first, finding Hotch and Charlotte fast asleep together, both of them facing her. She supposed her absence would go unnoticed for a few minutes, so she leaned against the door frame and watched, wondering with a heavy heart whether her lapse in judgment earlier had pushed Hotch to take a nap when one of their best friends was visiting. Perhaps he was simply tired, she figured, as he had spent more overnight hours awake than asleep, but maybe he was already fed up with her, only fourteen hours in.

She softly closed the door on her way out of the nursery after taking a quick picture with her phone, which she showed to Garcia when she got downstairs as an answer to her questioning Hotch's whereabouts.

"Where do I get one and how much do they cost?" Garcia marveled, her hand on her chest again. "Seriously, Em, this is not good. I think I have a crush on your fiancé, and I'm not sure what's more disturbing—the fact that he's yours, or the fact that I have my own beaux."

"Get in line behind the girls at work," Emily said dryly, saving the picture for later. She listened for the boys; they were eating their cookies at the dining room table.

"Oh, come on, I'm your BFF. I don't get to jump to the front of the line?"

"I suppose I could pull some strings."

"That's more like it. Here, have a cookie."

"Thanks," Emily said, sitting down next to Garcia at the kitchen counter.

"So, now that I've spent a good chunk of time going gaga over your ring and his proposal, let's set our sights further into the future. The wedding. One of the biggest days of your life. What kind do you want? Big church wedding?"

"As in simply getting married in a big church, or do all the seats actually have to be filled?" Emily remarked.

"You know what I mean. Talk to me. What's your dream wedding like?"

"I don't know..."

"Oh, come on, every little girl dreams up her wedding at the age of six. There's got to be some element you've always had in mind. Big, poofy Cinderella dress? Wait, no, with your curves you could definitely do a mermaid cut. Scratch _could. _Insert _should_."

"Well, now that we've decided on a dress…" Emily deadpanned.

"Hush, you. Now, wedding. Church? Beach? Back yard? BAU? City Hall? Where? And City Hall is not an option by the way. I would kill you if you went and got married on your lunch break."

"Even if we let you come? I think you can bring a few guests to City Hall ceremonies." Emily tried to convey that her thought was serious.

Garcia's jaw dropped in terror. "You _wouldn't_. Emily, this is your soul mate we're talking about here, and you've gone to the ends of the earth to be with each other. How could you get married in City Hall?"

Emily could certainly understand where Garcia was coming from, but she didn't agree, and it took her a moment to figure out how to phrase her side of the argument. "A bunch of flowers and a white gown and however many guests couldn't make me love him more than I already do. I guess that's exactly why I _wouldn't_ mind skipping the whole fiasco. Because it doesn't matter."

Garcia's lips drooped. "I don't think weddings are meant to make the couple love each other more, sweetie. I think it's for everyone to celebrate. And for a daddy to drop as many Gs as they can on his little girl so she can be happy on her big day."

"You guys could still celebrate with us. I'm not saying no to having a reception of some sort, but I just…I don't know…I think there's too much hoopla. But Aaron and I haven't even talked about it yet, to be honest."

"Good, then I have time to get to him. In the meantime, can I plan an engagement party? Nothing big, just dinner out somewhere nice, drinks, you know. Nothing too crazy. I swear."

Emily couldn't suppress a smile at Garcia's relentless enthusiasm. "If you really want to, sure. But we're not telling anyone else until Monday, probably. We want to take a couple of days to soak it in. You and Sean and my parents know, but that's it."

"Honey, that's, like, half the people you're close to. Add in the boys and you're way past half. Just saying."

"Everyone will find out eventually," Emily reassured Garcia with a pat on the hand. "But you obviously had to know."

Garcia's eyes watered visibly when she smiled. "God, you guys've come so far. I am so incredibly happy for you. Please know that. No matter where or how you get married, you're right, it doesn't matter. You two were made for each other. It's a shame it took so long for you to get here, but what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right?"

"Yeah." Emily squeezed Garcia's hand and sighed. "Thank you for everything. I'd be so lost without you. And so much less fun."

—

Emily and Hotch agreed that an early night was in order. They forewent television time and headed straight for their room once the children were in bed. However, Hotch didn't feel like going to sleep quite yet, not after Emily's suggestion earlier in the day.

"Guess what," Emily said when she walked out of the closet in regrettably normal pajamas.

"What?"

"I caught you being cute today." Emily grabbed her phone from her nightstand, found the picture of Hotch and the baby, and showed it to him. His eyes rolled barely noticeably as he handed it back.

"Aww, come on. I love it. Doesn't that count for anything?"

"Whatever you say." Hotch lay back on his pillows and folded his hands behind his head.

"Are you making my job easier on purpose?" Emily asked rhetorically, changing the direction of the conversation as she crawled over him and placed a kiss in the middle of his again bare chest. She knew full well that her hair fell around her face, tickling his skin. He brushed it out of the way, gathering most of it on one hand so he could watch as she dropped kisses in no discernable pattern. With a tinge of guilt, he wished she'd traveled downward instead of upward, but he knew better than to think she was ready for anything he wanted, and he reminded himself that having her in the first place was such a blessing in and of itself. His grievance disappeared once her lips hit his, her tongue wasting no time in seeking entrance. He released her hair as he gladly obliged, pressing both his palms into her upper back, urging her lower. He stirred, ached for her, and it was beginning to show, but before she let things progress further, she broke the kiss and lay down next to him. "Can I ask you something?" she said.

"Of course."

"Did I…say anything to upset you today? Or were you just tired?"

"Are you talking about my nap with the baby? I was just tired."

"So I didn't say anything to upset you? Anything at all?"

"Emily, what exactly are you referring to? That might help this conversation move forward."

"Okay…the comment I made about my mom wanting more grandkids. After I said it, I felt like it might've been insensitive, considering that end of the relationship isn't going your way."

Emily was being honest with Hotch; he figured the least he could do was be honest as well. "It…stung a little. But I'm okay. I wasn't hiding, I promise. Charlie just wouldn't go down right away and I didn't feel like trying, so I just sat with her and got sleepy. I'm sorry if it seemed like I was being a recluse or something."

"No, no. It's fine. I just wanted to make sure my trap didn't get me in trouble again. You're sure you're okay?"

As Hotch rested a hand on Emily's hip and rested his lips on her forehead, he couldn't imagine being upset with her. Not over anything. Not right now. "I'm perfectly fine. Come to think of it, though, can I ask _you_ something?"

"Of course."

"I wasn't eavesdropping. I'm sure you remember how thin that floor is. I could hear you and Garcia talking, and I heard you insinuate that we hadn't had sex when she asked. I told you you didn't have to lie."

"I know. But I think you made a valid point. It felt admittedly odd, almost wrong, to lie to her, but at the same, it feels strange to go reporting every detail now that we're doing well."

"I think you only feel that way because I opened my mouth."

"You enlightened me. Think of it that way."

"I think you should tell her. I mean, maybe not every detail, but it is something that's important to her. She's emotionally invested in this."

"But it makes you feel uncomfortable. How's that fair?"

Hotch shrugged. "I'll deal. I think she would love to know. Just don't hand her a weekly diary of positions and orgasm ratings."

"A detailed diary entry for every week? Just how much time do you plan on spending in here?"

"Not sure. I wouldn't mind going to work a little tired every morning. Maybe a little sore. Now…"

"…Where did we leave off?" Emily asked, finishing Hotch's thought.

"I think I was about to go lock the door, because you were the last one in and I saw you pause and think about it, and then decide against it."

"Oh, good, you saw that."

"I did, but I don't need the getting-caught aspect to get it up," Hotch cracked, squeezing Emily's thigh before he rolled out of bed. "It helped me get over things the first time, but I'm pretty sure I'm good to go now."

"Good. Hey, since you're quote-unquote getting some now, can I buy you clothes? That's the rule, right?"

"In general, maybe, but for you, no. No clothes."

"I promise, no matching anything ever again."

"Absolutely not."

"Not even ties?"

"Ties on special occasions, though I hope you'll get a little more creative than that."

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	100. Dreams, Sushi, Sex, and Macaroni

"I don't think I've ever been hugged so much in my life," Emily remarked. She stepped around a slick looking spot on the concrete as she and Hotch toted the children back to the car, having just ended an hour-long stay at the BAU. They had interrupted everyone's Monday evening work to announce their engagement in person. The team's reactions had been nothing but overwhelmingly supportive. "Did Dave say anything to you?" she asked Hotch.

"_Dave_?"

"Okay, Rossi. I just figured, you call him Dave all the time. But you're right. It sounds weird coming from me. Anyway, did he say anything?"

Hotch grinned and dug the car keys out of his jacket pocket. "Like what?"

"I don't know, I just know he's been snoopy in the past. Any 'I told ya so's?"

"He thinks he knows everything, let's just put it that way. I'm waiting for a chance to prove him wrong."

Laughing silently, Emily paused their conversation while they got the kids in the car. "Did you tell Jessica yet?"

"Yeah, the kids and I stopped by on the way home today, didn't we, guys?" Hotch asked, looking into the rearview mirror once he was behind the wheel.

"Yup!" Jack answered. "Auntie Jessie was crying!"

Hotch warded off Emily's panic quickly, expecting it. "Happy tears, happy tears," he said.

"Ohh, really?"

"I had the same reaction," Hotch said under his breath, just loud enough for Emily to hear. "Better than sad tears, though. And she said to pass on her congratulations."

"I'll have to give her a call. I invited her out with me and Garcia this week."

"You did?" Hotch asked in surprise as he pulled out into traffic.

"Yeah, at Charlotte's party." Emily saved a recollection of her and Jessica's conversation for later, as the children were all quiet in the backseat, probably listening to everything that was being said.

A smile crept slowly across Hotch's face. "That was nice of you."

"It's not charity. I really want to be good friends with her."

"Then that's great to hear."

—

Emily awoke in a cold, sticky sweat for the second time that night and the fifth time in the last three nights. Her panting drowned out Hotch's light snoring for a few moments, but eventually, she calmed down enough to hear him as he slept beside her, his broad back facing her. She considered rousing him, telling him about her recurring dream, if she could call it that. She wasn't sure if it qualified as a nightmare, either, but it certainly wasn't a dream whose recurrence she welcomed.

Deciding Hotch sounded too peaceful in his slumber to interrupt it, Emily sat up slowly, clutching the sheets to her unclothed chest. Stars danced under her as she rubbed her eyes firmly with the heels of her hands. She was about to get out of bed and make herself some tea—resigned to the fact that at four in the morning, she was probably up for good—when Hotch stirred, rolling onto his back.

"Hey," he whispered, not able to find his voice yet.

"Oh, sorry, didn't mean to wake you," Emily replied, sliding back down into bed.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah."

"Then why are you sitting up at…four in the morning?" Hotch said, still quite groggy. Emily felt guilty, knowing that Hotch would probably give up on more sleep at this hour, too.

"Just this dream," Emily sighed, resting her head under his chin and her hand on his stomach.

"A bad one, I take it?"

Shivers assaulted Emily's body as Hotch, bit by bit, pulled strands of hair off her shoulder, letting them slide down her back. "I guess so. Not a good dream."

Hotch suppressed a yawn, and poorly. "Why don't you tell me about it?"

"It's so hard to explain your dreams to somebody else. So much gets lost in translation and then it just sounds insane."

"Give it a shot," Hotch insisted with an encouraging squeeze of Emily's shoulder.

"Okay…so in this dream, which I've had maybe five times now, I think, I'm JJ. I don't ever see her or hear her, because I _am_ her, and I never speak, but I just know I'm her. You know how it is with dreams. You just know without being told. Anyway, I'm watching you and me getting married, and I feel—or JJ feels—happy, but not completely. She's sad, too, because she misses her kids, and she's—or I am, whatever—watching from above, right? But then we're all at home, tucking in the kids all of a sudden, and she sees how happy we are, and she kind of descends from where she is and stands a few feet away from us, but we don't see her. And I can sense that she's about to call Henry and Charlotte to see if they come to her and—" Emily paused, apologizing quietly and trying to collect herself. She slipped a hand underneath her cheek so as not to get her tears on Hotch's chest.

"Take your time. I'm not going anywhere." Hotch's hand slowly glided up and down Emily's back.

She nodded and continued soon enough, her voice quavering. "She wants to call out to them, but she hears us say our 'I love you's to all the kids, and then she feels like can't call their names, that she can't compete with us, like they've forgotten her or something, so she turns around and walks away. And then I wake up."

Hotch sighed audibly and pulled Emily closer. "What do you think it means?" he quizzed her.

"Easy. That I miss JJ and my brain will do anything to keep me from forgetting about her, even if it means torturing me."

"Well, if you're gonna look at it that way, like this is your brain's way of reminding you of JJ, does it necessarily have to be torture? In your dream, JJ's letting go. She's realizing the children are happy, we're happy, and she doesn't try to take her children back. Don't you think that means you should feel at peace, too?"

"If I could, I would. But I wake up in a cold sweat every time."

"Maybe you just need to hear it from someone else. It doesn't sound like a nightmare to me, sweetheart. It is unsettling, but I think you're reading into it the wrong way. I don't know how deep or spiritual you want to get with this, but maybe think of it as JJ telling you everything's okay. That she loved her kids and always will, but she loves us, too, and realizes everyone's doing just fine."

"Then why do I wake up feeling so awful?"

"Maybe you just needed to talk it out."

Emily felt Hotch's lips on her forehead; she tried to force his optimism into permeating her skin.

"Hopefully," Emily said. "Thanks for listening."

"Of course. I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Have you been thinking about her more than usual lately? Maybe that's what's bringing on the dreams."

"A lot more. The anniversary's coming up soon and I keep wondering what my life would be like if she were still here. I need to stop. It's so self-destructive." Hotch's non-response was indicative to Emily that he agreed. "Sorry for waking you up."

"Don't be. I wish I would've known about the other times. Hopefully this is the last one."

"Yeah. God, I miss her so much."

"So do I."

Emily let out a giant puff of air, then pulled the covers over her shoulder. "I'm wide awake now."

"Me too."

Emily moaned. "I'm so sorry."

"Stop that. If you can't sleep, I don't want to taunt you by doing so myself, so it's better that I'm awake. Want to…talk about the wedding?" he asked lightly.

This lifted some of the fog that had settled over Emily's heart. "That sounds nice. And prudent."

Hotch chuckled. "Yeah, I'm surprised we haven't already. So, what kind of wedding do you want?"

"I don't know…"

"Come on, don't all girls come up with some sort of dream wedding when they're little?"

"Garcia said the same thing."

"Okay, well that doesn't really answer my question," Hotch teased.

"I guess I kind of pictured myself in a big poofy dress in a huge church full of people. Just a really vague, generic kind of wedding. But I also wasn't forty in my fantasies. I was closer to twenty."

"Forty-one," Hotch reminded her, happily accepting a playful swat on the stomach. "What does age have to do with it?"

Emily shrugged against Hotch. "The older I get, I guess the more frivolous all of that sounds."

"Is it about money? Because we can have a big wedding without breaking the bank. You just have to look where you'd be spending a lot…like buying a ton of fresh flowers, that sort of thing."

"Do you think we could even fill half our church with the amount of people we know?"

Hotch chuckled. "Maybe not. If an empty venue bothers you, we could always do something here. Unless you want to go to City Hall," he said, clearly not serious.

"Well…"

"Wait, are you serious? City Hall?"

Emily grew defensive. "Okay, what is the big deal about getting married at City Hall? You're a guy—shouldn't you be all for that?"

"I'm not against it, really, I'm just…surprised you're considering it. I mean, after all this time, all we've been through, you really want to get married at City Hall? I get that you'd like to scale things down, and that's perfectly reasonable, but you're kind of throwing me for a loop here."

"Okay, okay, so not City Hall. Garcia hated it, too. What about my parents' place? They're coming back in a couple of weeks and my mom said she wanted to help plan the wedding. I'm sure she wouldn't mind. If we want to wait till spring or summer, her back yard is gorgeous. But if we want to get married sooner rather than later, then I think our place is a little cramped."

"Okay, then, let's plan on your parents' place. Give your mom a call tomorrow."

Emily smiled, giving Hotch's love handle, which she never mentioned by name, a firm squeeze. "Sounds good."

"And we could have a reception there, too, or rent out a banquet hall, whichever you prefer."

"This is fun," Emily remarked.

"This is the easy stuff. Trust me, the details aren't nearly as much fun."

"Then let's keep it as simple as possible. And sooner, rather than later, I think. What about you?" Emily asked, liking the idea of an outdoor wedding with a lush backdrop, white chairs on the grass, and an ivy-covered arbor, but liking far more the idea of being married, and soon. If Hotch had been up to a City Hall wedding, she would have married him the next day, as she knew from some quick research that there was no waiting period on marriage licenses in their state, but she knew there were several people who would have her head.

"I like the idea of sooner. It's not like we're getting any younger, right?"

"Right."

"Let's pick a date, then," Hotch said. "We have to give people some warning."

"First weekend of March," Emily said. "That's five weeks from now. Plenty of time."

"Do you think your parents will be able to be flexible, in case the team ends up on a case?"

"I'm sure they can be."

"Then tentatively the first Saturday in March, whatever date that is. Sounds good."

"You know, I think four in the morning is a good hour for us." Emily smiled and dropped a kiss on Hotch's chest, savoring the warmth. "Good for consummating relationships, planning weddings…anything else that needs taking care of?"

"We are behind on laundry."

"Well, if we're awake, why not? You start up the coffee and I'll start sorting."

**Later That Week**

"You've seriously never had sushi?" Garcia marveled at Jessica, who eyed the plate in front of her fearfully.

"Nope, never. Not a big fan of fish, to be honest."

"Oh, honey, you don't have to be."

Emily watched and listened in amusement as Garcia gave Jessica a tour around her plate. Once everyone was quietly eating, Emily swallowed a bite of spicy tuna and cleared her throat. "So, we picked a date and a place."

Garcia swallowed whatever was in her mouth without chewing any further, her eyes widening. "Well? Where? When?"

"My parents' house, March third. And if the team ends up out on a case, we can move it to another Saturday. We checked with Sean and he said he can be flexible. What about you, Jess?"

"Totally flexible. But that soon?" Jessica asked blankly. "Not that there's anything wrong with that."

"We didn't really want to wait too long, and we're not doing anything over the top. We just want to have a nice time with friends and family and have that be the focus. No showers, no bridal party, no fuss."

Garcia placed both hands over her chest. "Okay, you just took away my ability to throw you a bridal shower and stand up in your wedding, but you _cannot_ rob me of the privilege of helping you find the perfect wedding gown. You, me, your mom, and Jessica. We are on the prowl starting next weekend. Sound good?" Garcia asked Jessica, but not Emily. The former grinned at the latter, who rolled her eyes and smiled softly at Garcia's predictable antics.

"No objection here, if Emily doesn't mind," Jessica said, her uncertainty of her position in this group of friends very apparent.

"Of course. I'd love for you to come. We're going to need a voice of reason, anyway."

"The kids must be in the wedding," Garcia went on, ignoring Emily's jab. "Two ring bearers and a flower girl. I don't know if this counts as fuss, but frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn," she said, challenging anyone to deny her her demands.

"A one-year-old flower girl?" Emily asked skeptically.

"I'll walk her down the aisle myself if I have to," Garcia insisted.

"All right, then. Anything else?"

"Oh, honey, this is just the tip of the iceberg," Garcia said. "I've been dreaming of this ever since you and Hotch got your act together. Longer, actually. But I promise, I'll try not to throw in anything that costs extra."

"Thanks, I appreciate it."

"Are you this excited about everything?" Jessica asked Garcia.

"Pretty much so," Emily answered for her.

—

"Too bad Jessica didn't want to come out for drinks," Garcia said an hour later as she and Emily took two stools at a bar and waited for the bartender's attention.

"I think she just wants to ease in," Emily said. "I can imagine she feels like a bit of a third wheel, still. But she seems to like you."

"Who wouldn't?" Garcia asked with feigned puzzlement.

"Good point."

"So, catch me up," Garcia said, patting Emily on the hand. "How are things?"

"Great," Emily said truthfully. Her dreams had stopped, and though she still found herself thinking more and more about JJ, she'd managed to make herself think of her more fondly and a little less longingly.

"Everybody's happy?"

"Everybody's more than happy."

"How are things on the you-know-what front?"

Emily's stomach lurched. A couple of times since she had last seen Garcia, she had considered coming clean, but couldn't think of a way to do so without hurting Garcia's feelings. She knew, however, that she would have to fess up eventually, and that the longer she waited, the more hurt Garcia might be. Evn though Hotch had seemed content at first with Emily ignoring his apology and maintaining a vow of silence, he had even started to bring it up again, encouraging her to tell Garcia. She swallowed and said, "Well…"

"Well what?" Garcia straightened her back, listening with rapt attention.

"Please don't be hurt, because it was absolutely nothing personal, but I kind of lied the last time you asked me." The bartender came just then and took their orders, which Garcia rattled off without looking at him or asking Emily.

"What do you mean? You _have_?"

"Yeah, the night he proposed."

"Whoa, hang on, shut the front door," Garcia said, both hands placed unmoving in the air. "Number one, I could not be more happy for you, not until you tie the knot, anyway, and number two, why on earth didn't you tell me? I'm not offended, per se, but I'm used to knowing everything. This feels so strange."

"I know, and I'm sorry," Emily sighed, reaching for a hand to hold. "I just felt like keeping things a little more private," she went on, deciding not to make Hotch take the fall for this, even if it was mainly his doing. "I thought it would be more romantic, I guess, if I didn't go blabbing about it the next day, but really, it just felt, well, weird, not telling you. I mean, if this were a normal relationship, then I might not feel the need to give you a date and time, but you've been my number one cheerleader, especially when it's come to that, and it _has_ been a big issue for me, so it's a bigger deal than it normally would be. I wish I would've told you. I really do. That was a bad call on my part, and I'm sorry."

Garcia tested the stability of her barstool before leaning toward Emily and squeezing the living daylights out of her. "It's fine. I understand, and I'm glad you told me now," she said, a little less enthusiastically than Emily had hoped for.

"If it's any further consolation…well…" Emily teased.

"Was it great?"

"Perfect. Just, beyond words."

"Oh, there _will_ be words," Garcia informed Emily. "I at least want to know what led up to it."

"Would you believe me if I sat on his lap naked in the living room to get him in the mood?"

**February 20****th****, 2012**

"Are you sure you want to go alone?" Hotch asked Emily, watching with his arms crossed as she wrapped a long scarf a few times around her neck.

"I'm not going alone," Emily said, gesturing toward Henry and Charlotte, who were both already dressed for the cold.

"You know what I mean," Hotch said with some reproach.

A falsely reassuring smile crossed Emily's lips before she kissed him. "I'll be fine."

"All right. But don't stay too long, okay? The sun's almost set and it's bitter out there."

"In February? Really?"

Hotch ignored Emily's playful sarcasm. "Anything in particular you want for dinner?"

"Just something warm."

Emily wished she'd thought better of bringing the children with her as she walked up to JJ and Will's grave. Henry had already complained twice about being cold since they'd left the car thirty feet away, and she could feel Charlotte shivering. "We won't stay long," she reassured them. She didn't explain to Henry the purpose of their visit. She hadn't even told him where they were going, just that she wanted them to take a special trip with her. As moving as it had sounded to have JJ and Will's children with her, Emily regretted it, knowing that the children were suffering with what seemed now to be no purpose. She also realized now, feeling foolish, that she couldn't speak aloud like she'd planned, not with Henry around—she would confuse and probably scare him.

So she stood in silence with Charlotte on her hip, hoping JJ could hear her even though she didn't open her mouth. She hadn't known whether this trip was more for herself or for her friends when she'd planned it, but as she looked at what was simply a physical reminder of two lost souls, but not the souls themselves, she came to the understanding that she wasn't here for JJ or for Will. If they could hear her thoughts and prayers, they could hear them anywhere. If they were watching, they could watch anywhere. They would know how far she, Hotch, and the children had come. They would know about the engagement, about the wedding that was coming up in less than two weeks. Somewhat like the JJ whose mind she had occupied in her dreams, the JJ she envisioned now was watching over her right at this very moment, only this time she smiled somewhat angelically, giving Emily peace. Tears had been stinging Emily's eyes ever since she'd gotten into the car to make the trip to the cemetery, but they now flowed freely. They were tears of near closure, though, not tears of despair, thanks to the solace she found in imagining JJ's blessing. "I love you and I miss you. Both of you," she said shortly and shakily. "Okay, guys, let's get warmed up."

"That was fast," Hotch called from the kitchen when Emily got home with Henry and Charlotte not an hour after she'd left. She was taking off the children's jackets, mittens, hats, and boots when Hotch met her near the front door. He began to help.

"Yeah," Emily breathed.

"Dinner's not quite ready."

"That's okay." Emily took off her jacket and scard and waited until Henry and Charlotte went off to find Jack before telling Hotch anything. "It was actually easier than I thought it would be. I got there and I just felt this…peace that I didn't feel from those dreams. I felt like I didn't even need to be there to get that." She found herself in Hotch's arms before long, his hands rubbing her back briskly to warm her up.

"That's good," Hotch said, leaving a soothing, lingering kiss on her forehead.

"I still miss her, though."

"That's perfectly okay." The oven beeped. "Sounds like dinner's ready now."

Emily opened her nostrils and took in a deep breath. "Is that macaroni and cheese?"

"Yes, but not from a box. I got the recipe from your mom. She said it was the only thing she ever really took the time to cook, and that it was your favorite when you were a kid."

Emily braced Hotch's shoulders firmly, her eyes watering all over again. "I can't remember the last time I had my mom's macaroni and cheese. Do you know what you're doing to me? Do you have any idea?" she said with a touch of drama.

"Don't let all your excitement out at once. I rented _When Harry Met Sally_ and bought a fresh bottle of massage oil. I figured Henry and Jack having the flu last week wasn't the most romantic Valentine's. Not only that, but I'm betting you could really use a good massage."

Emily fell back into Hotch and moaned into his chest. "I could. Definitely. And you'll sit through that movie with me? Mmm, I could just marry you."

"How about in a couple weeks?"

Emily laughed. "I like the sound of that."

"Find a dress yet?"

Emily shook her head, backing away. "I'm not telling you."

**A/N: Please leave a review!  
**


	101. Eleven

**A/N: The day we've all been waiting for…**

"I can't," Emily said, placing a hand gingerly over her stomach when Garcia offered her some ice cream at her apartment.

"Oh, come on."

"I'm serious. I tried my dress on this morning and it was harder to zip than it was when I bought it."

Garcia raised an eyebrow. "Have you been eating more?"

"I've been stressed, so stress-eating, yeah," Emily admitted, leaning back into Garcia's couch and running her hands through her hair.

"Of course. Tomorrow's a big day." Garcia shut the freezer door and joined Emily, gently brushing her hair away from her face and giving her a pouty lip. "I tried to do as much as I could, sweetie."

Emily's features popped. "No, no, I wasn't trying to say I had too much to do. You were amazing. To be honest with you, I feel like I wasn't really involved _enough_. It's just…such a big change. And I'm not scared, per se, just…" Emily let her eyes fall shut.

"Got the jitters?" Emily nodded. "You know, at the same time, it's not really a big change if you think about it. You guys've been practically married for so long. Even before you got together. After tomorrow, which will be the happiest day of your life so far—I promise you that—the only thing different in your life will be the wedding rings. You're not even changing your last name. And you'll love each other a little more, too. But it isn't like one of you has to move, you know? And you already combined all of your finances once and for all last week, right? So, status quo for the most part."

Emily nodded again, this time more relaxed, and leaned into Garcia for a much-needed hug. "I know. But I think you said it. Tomorrow's a big day. I think once it's over I'll breathe one giant sigh of relief. Not that I don't want to _experience_ the day, but—"

"I know what you mean, sugar. I really do. Not to make this a sob fest, but I really wish JJ were here. Not only do I miss her, but she'd probably be better at calming you down than I am. I am, like, the antithesis of calm, twenty-four-seven."

Emily squeezed Garcia's hand. "You're doing a perfectly good job. I miss her, too."

The ladies took a few moments of silence to remember their friend, and then Garcia moved on. "Let's lighten the mood a bit, shall we? How did the celibacy thing work out? Did you make it the whole week?" Garcia's eyes twinkled.

"Barely. Another reason I can't wait until tomorrow comes to an end," Emily joked.

"I bet you dollars to donuts that you guys will be too tired to do anything tomorrow night, including each other."

"I'm going to take that bet."

"Loser pays for our first double date, whenever we plan one that isn't interrupted by a case."

"Deal."

Garcia hummed contentedly, still toying with Emily's hair. "I'm so unbelievably happy for you. I might even be happier _than_ you. Hey, what do you think Hotch and Sean are up to right now?"

Emily glanced at her watch. "Probably sleeping by now. Hey, does this celibacy thing cover phone sex?"

Garcia reached into Emily's purse, which sat on the coffee table, and took out her cell phone. "I'll be keeping this, thank you very much. You'll thank me in thirty-six or so hours, when you may actually have the energy to consummate your marriage. Trust me. Absence makes the lady parts grow fonder."

—

"Extra mushrooms?" Hotch asked as Sean pulled open a pizza box.

"Extra extra mushrooms. And you can have mine."

"That's right. Forgot you didn't like 'em. Sorry." Hotch took out two plates and handed one to his brother. "You didn't have to stay, you know."

"Why would I want to pay for a hotel? Besides, someone's gotta make sure you don't stay up playing video games all night."

"Want to sleep in my bed with me to make sure I shut my eyes?"

"Only if we can snuggle."

The men kicked back in the living room again and Hotch, still grinning at his brother's remark, restarted their game after a quick bite of piping hot pizza. "I really need to get a different game to play. I left the game in again a few days ago and _both_ the boys were playing it."

"You don't need a new game. You just need to stop being an idiot."

"Thank you," Hotch said dryly.

"You nervous?" Sean asked.

"Just as much as the first time. Doesn't go away."

"Good. Wouldn't be right if you weren't a little anxious. Think Emily's over there freaking out?"

"I hope not," Hotch said. "I hope she's relaxing. She hasn't been sleeping well. She was up in the middle of the night puking last night," Hotch said, immediately unsure if he should have shared that information, then absolutely certain once he saw his brother's raised eyebrows.

"You think she might be…?"

"Just because a woman pukes doesn't mean she's pregnant, Sean."

"You sound disappointed. Talk to me. You never did tell me why you're not gonna have a baby."

"Emily doesn't want to," Hotch said simply, the topic not stinging as much as it once did, especially given the day he had ahead of him. There were more important things in their immediate future on which to focus. "Well, she wants to," he said with a shrug, "but she thinks it would mean that we don't love the other kids as much…I understand where she's coming from, but I think she's completely wrong, if that makes sense."

"That's a shitty situation."

"Tell me about it. But it's not like I can make her. And to be fair, a baby would be a big bonus, but it's not a necessity. We have a big family already, and there's never a shortage of love from the kids. Everything's great."

"True," Sean said, but he added nothing more: Hotch's aversion to the topic was clear. Sean had gotten the understanding he'd sought and was moving on. "God, it's quiet here."

Hotch smirked. "I tried to tell Jess she didn't need to take the kids tonight. She wouldn't listen."

"Gives you a chance to sleep in in the morning."

The two of them played on in silence for a while. "I wonder what the dress looks like," Hotch said abruptly when visions of Emily in a nondescript white gown crossed his mind.

"She really hasn't shown you?"

Hotch shook his head. "No. I mean, she's kept the garment bag in our closet, so I could've looked, but I haven't. Why, has she shown _you_?"

"Well, yeah. She was trying it on today while you were out picking up your tux."

Hotch put down his controller. "She let _you_ see? Seriously?"

Sean laughed. "Sorry, man."

"How'd she look?"

"Objective or subjective opinion?"

Hotch shot his brother a stern glare. "I don't ever want to hear a number between one and ten leave your lips."

"How about eleven?"

"Sean—"

"I'm not trying to objectify her, but she looked great. You'll love it. Want me to spoil it more for you? I can tell you what it looks like if you really wanna know."

"No," Hotch said, finding better judgment quickly. "But to be fair, she could wear a garbage bag and she'd still be an eleven. So you telling me she's an eleven doesn't spoil much of anything."

"Okay, you're getting corny on me. Time for bed. By the way, I zipped her up."

—

"This is a bit tighter than it was when we bought it, hon," Elizabeth said as she zipped up the back of her daughter's wedding gown in her childhood bedroom, which was cramped with four women in it.

"Mom," Emily moaned quietly.

"You're not hiding something from me, are you?"

"_Mom_."

Garcia gasped. "Are you pregs?"

"Both of you," Emily said with a desperate laugh, "stop it, please. I'm not pregnant. I think I'd know if I was pregnant."

"Sweetie, I love you," Garcia said, "but most women can't tell besides missing a period. That's why they make pregnancy tests. Are you late?"

"I'm not due for a week. Even if I was pregnant, I wouldn't have gained weight from it already. I told you, I've been stress-eating."

"Voice of reason, piping in," Jessica said from the corner where she sat nitpicking over Emily's bouquet. "I think the bride's not too appreciative of the interrogation."

"_Thank you_," Emily said with a soft smile to Jessica and a warning stare to her mother and Garcia.

"Shifting gears!" Garcia chirped. "Do you have your something old?"

"My necklace," Emily said, toying with the cross pendant she'd gotten as a Christmas gift from Hotch.

Emily's mother cleared her throat, taking a small box out of a drawer in the vanity. "I wore this on my wedding day." She opened the box in front of Emily, presenting her with a pearl necklace. "Now, you don't have to wear it if you don't want to—"

"Oh, she wants to," Garcia said. "Em, look, the pearls match your dress perfectly."

Emily fingered the necklace, her lips parted. "You really wore these?"

"Mm-hmm. Your father bought them for me as a gift on our wedding day. Want to try them on?"

Emily nodded, reaching behind her neck to unclasp the gold chain and letting her mother replace it with the pearls. "Yes. Definitely yes," she said when she looked in the mirror. "Thank you, so much. I love them."

"Then you're welcome to _borrow_ them for the purposes of keeping with tradition, and after today you can keep them if you want." Elizabeth kissed Emily's temple so as not to get lipstick on her cheek.

"I might never take them off." Emily sighed. "I guess I can count my earrings as something old."

"They go great with the pearls. Not too mitchy-matchy," Garcia said with certainty. "So we have something old, still. Did you buy sexy new panties?" she inquired.

"White thong, but not for the purpose of being sexy. Only because my butt has never been on display quite like this before." Emily instinctively placed her hand over her backside, which was framed flatteringly in a mermaid cut ivory lace gown that had been only the fifth she'd tried on.

"There you go, then something new. Old, check, new, check, borrowed, check, and all we need is blue."

"There's blue delphinium in your bouquet," Jessica said, handing it to Emily.

"Then it looks like we're all set. We'll go get the flower girl and ring bearers ready so you two can have a minute. I'll send your dad up." Garcia barely held Emily's cheeks between her hands, both their eyes watering as she spoke. "And I would kiss you all over, but I don't think my lipstick goes with yours."

Emily laughed and reached for one of Garcia's hands. "I love you so much. Thank you for everything. Both of you," she said, eying Jessica, too.

"Butterflies?" Elizabeth asked once she and her daughter were alone in the room.

"Like you wouldn't believe." Emily's stomach fluttered even more at her mother's question.

"Sit down and relax for a minute. You don't want to get lightheaded." Elizabeth took Emily's bouquet from her so she could adjust the gown a little to sit down. "You look absolutely stunning, Em."

A smile flitted across Emily's lips, which were an understated pink. "Thank you."

"I wish you would've planned a honeymoon."

"We'll probably take one this summer," Emily assured her mother.

"If it's about money, our offer still stands."

"It's not about money. We'd just rather go somewhere during the summer. We don't want to have to go far for nice weather. Aaron wants to do a road trip instead of flying anywhere."

"You wouldn't rather go overseas, really?"

Emily shook her head. "We'll do all that kind of traveling when we're old and grey and don't have kids in the house. Oh—hi, Dad." Emily's cheeks flushed when she saw the way her father was looking at her, the way his eyes gleamed.

Elizabeth left Emily with another kiss, leaving her husband and daughter alone in the room.

"Well, I'll be. Don't you just look like a princess?"

"Thanks." Emily shook her hands in front of her, leaning into her father when he sat down next to her and cupped her opposite shoulder. "You know, for a long time, I'd resigned myself to the fact that this would never happen," she said frankly. "Every birthday that went by, I just accepted it more and more…"

"You just needed the right fellow to come along. I'm glad you waited."

"You think he's the one?" Emily asked.

"If you have to ask me, honey, then maybe you shouldn't be wearing that dress."

Emily chuckled. "You know what I mean. You like him, right?"

"My dearest, I've never seen you this happy. With a man or without. And you're marrying a gentleman, which you know was all I asked of you."

"So you're not going to give him a hard time just to be the stereotypical father-in-law?"

George grinned. "I might." He waited a few moments before he said, "Whenever we're ready, they are."

Emily drew in a deep breath and nodded. Her father got up and held a hand out for her. "Ready."

"Don't forget your flowers."

—

Hotch watched, feeling alone and naked, from one end of the largest room in the Prentiss' home as Garcia ushered Henry and Jack, each carrying small satin pillows with an imitation wedding band, to the bottom of the aisle. A solo violinist started up the music. Henry had to walk double time to keep up with Jack, who forgot that their legs weren't the same length and also forgot his instructions to walk slowly. Once their duties were fulfilled, they sought out the two open seats between Sean and Jessica. Garcia took the time to walk with Charlotte and drop most of her flower petals for her, eliciting some chuckles from their very few guests—who happened to include a few familiar faces from their past life, such as Strauss and Anderson—and brought the baby to sit with her.

He had been sporting a grin (and suppressing laughter) ever since Jack and Henry's trip down the aisle, but when the music shifted and everyone stood, the muscles in Hotch's face faltered momentarily. He made and maintained eye contact with his bride for her short journey, his lips turning back up with every step, watching her smile grow much grander than his. His heart soon drowned out the sound of the music, and after what felt like a century, Emily's father was kissing her and giving her to her groom. She handed her bouquet to Garcia, who sat with Emily's parents, tears already streaking her cheeks.

There were so many things Hotch wanted to tell Emily, and that Emily wanted to tell Hotch, but the room was too small and crowded to afford them any privacy to exchange any last-minute words before the officiant started the ceremony. The "I do"s couldn't have come quickly enough, both of their minds on autopilot, allowing them to focus only on the other's eyes and the feeling of their hands joined together again, finally, with the addition of their wedding bands.

It was an experience for the senses, but not for the mind. Not right now. Both of them could see, hear, feel, to some extent—but neither could really process much beyond basic sensations during the brief ceremony. Feelings could wait until a time when neither one of them was scared out of their wits. That time came when their lips met for the first time as man and wife.

—

"Thank you for behaving, by the way," Emily said with a smirk as she fed a bite of wedding cake to Hotch.

"Your nose begged for frosting but I figured you'd appreciate not having to fix your makeup."

This happened to be their second helping of cake. The photos, the toasts, the food, the dancing, and every other small tradition they could fit into a reception with so few guests, were all through. All that remained was for the clock to tick to the agreed upon eleven o'clock.

"You were right," Emily said, accepting a forkful of cake in return. "Guess what."

"What?"

Emily laughed foolishly but only loudly enough for Hotch to hear. "We're married."

A serene look washed over Hotch's formerly amused face and he placed a hand on Emily's shoulder, brushing it with his thumb. "That we are. How does it feel?"

Emily glanced up at the ceiling as she pondered. "Like I don't have enough days left in my life. Even if I was twenty, I would feel the same way."

"That's a pretty good way of putting it."

A peaceful moan traveled from Emily's lips to Hotch's as he kissed her, this time without the urging of silverware on glasses.

"Mommy?" Henry asked quietly from behind them.

"Yes?" she asked in a sugary voice, drawing away from Hotch.

"Can we dance?" He pointed to the makeshift dance floor, where Jessica danced with Jack and Sean held the baby at his side and bounced her around, trying to keep her awake for a little bit longer.

"Of course we can. I thought you'd never ask." Leaving Hotch with one more kiss, she crouched down and held Henry's hand until they reached the dance floor, then picked him up and centered him in front of her. "You look so handsome." He smiled shyly and gladly rubbed noses with her. "It's getting pretty late. Are you tired?" she asked, watching with a melting heart as his eyes seemed to grow heavy from the power of suggestion, but he shook his head. "Really?" Henry didn't answer. As she swayed slowly with the tune of a classic rock ballad, JJ crossed her mind for the thousandth time that day. She had kept finding herself wishing JJ were here to celebrate this day with her, but this time, as she held JJ's sleepy little boy in her arms, she realized JJ wasn't far from her at all.

"I've been waiting for that," Sean said several minutes later. Emily snapped out of a daze, where she'd been thinking about the rest of her life with her family in a year-by-year fashion, and realized that Henry was fast asleep against her.

"Oh," she whispered as her brother-in-law held his arms out for him. "Thank you. They can crash here, you know. Plenty of bedrooms. You really don't need to take them home."

"I'm more than happy to. I promised them a nice big breakfast in the morning."

"They'll love that. But you know what?"

"What?" Sean asked, trying to adjust Henry against him so that he wouldn't rouse him.

"I haven't gotten to dance with you. So you can't go yet. Pass Henry off to someone else for a song or two?"

Sean's somewhat tired face brightened and he handed Henry off to Hotch, who seemed to have arrived solely for that purpose. Sometime before dancing with Emily, Sean had passed Charlotte off to Hotch, against whose chest she slept, with her little mouth hanging open. Hotch easily took Henry with his other arm.

"I wanna dance with you, Mommy," Jack said, cutting in front of his uncle.

"Go for it," Sean said, bowing out gracefully and waiting his turn.

Emily gave her eyes a little roll and took both of Jack's hands, bending over to decrease their height difference as much as was comfortable. "Hi, sweetie. Did you have fun?"

Jack nodded, clutching onto Emily's hands. "Daddy said to tell you you look pretty."

Emily found herself laughing yet again. "He did, did he? Well, thank you."

"Can we go home now?"

"You can in a few minutes, once I dance with your uncle," Emily said, casting Sean a smile. "But Daddy and I aren't coming home tonight. We'll be home tomorrow."

"Where are you going?"

"To a hotel room so we can have some peace and quiet together," she replied, running a hand through Jack's freshly cut hair. "Remember? Uncle Sean's going to watch you guys tonight."

"Oh yeah!" Jack exclaimed when he recalled this. "Okay, can we go now, Uncle Sean?" Jack said, letting go of Emily's hands.

"Give me a few minutes, buddy, okay?" Sean said.

Jack nodded and trotted away to find someone else to entertain him. "So?" Sean asked Emily as he took her waist and hand.

"Yes?"

"You happy?"

Emily shook her head. "Happy doesn't even begin to cover it. Not even remotely."

"On a scale of one to ten?"

"Eleven."

Sean snickered, but wouldn't say why when Emily asked him. "Thank you for accepting me into your life so easily," he said after a minute of silence. "Aaron and I have never really been close until now, and I feel like the best move I've made in a long time is coming to visit you guys for that crazy dinner, what, a year ago now?"

"I can't imagine our family without you. I mean that. And if you ever need anything at all, I hope we're the first ones you call," Emily said warmly.

"Same with you guys."

"Of course. So, when are you going to meet _your_ soul mate?"

"Soon would be nice. Not gonna lie, I'm pretty jealous of you guys. And don't tell Aaron I said this, because you know he's a blockhead and he'd take it the wrong way, but you're a catch. For him. And I'm not claiming I'm psychic, but the second I saw you with him I knew this day would come."

"So you were rooting for us from the beginning?"

"Oh, you bet." Sean kissed Emily on the forehead. "I think you have a line, though, so I'm gonna hand you over now and take the munchkins home. Love you."

Emily felt her face redden and her eyes suddenly swam in new tears. "I love you, too. See you tomorrow."

"One last dance before you two take off?" Morgan asked, taking hold of Emily.

"Absolutely. What time is it?"

"Ten-thirty."

"Perfect. So, did you have a nice time?"

"_Did I have a nice time_? Watching two of my best friends finally tie the knot? You bet I had a good time. And might I add, you look gorgeous. Not even gorgeous. There's not a word in the dictionary."

"Stop."

"Take a compliment like a lady," Morgan demanded, giving her a reproachful look and squeezing her waist.

"Sorry. Thank you. That's very sweet."

"How many times have you heard that tonight?"

"Oh, about three dozen. Mostly from Aaron."

"As it should be. Looks like he's starting out on the right foot."

"All right, Derek, time's up," Rossi said, tapping Morgan on the shoulder. "My turn."

"All right, all right. Congratulations, Emily."

"Thank you." Emily traded kisses on the cheek with Morgan before switching to Rossi, who just smiled and shook his head at her. "What?" she asked.

"You two. Don't tell Aaron this, but not long after he got divorced, and sorry to say that word at a wedding, but I thought you two had a thing. Guess I'm not right about everything. God, you guys took forever."

"Actually, can I let you in on a little secret?"

"I like a good secret."

"The night he signed the papers—and we're both still pretty ashamed of this—we went out, had some drinks—well, a lot of drinks—and, uh, came pretty close to breaking a bunch of Bureau rules. Actually, I'm sure we broke some."

Rossi's thick eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yup. We got…interrupted and never really got to fooling around again, not until somewhat recently."

"Well…Wow."

"You should tell Aaron this, because he's kind of peeved that you're always right about everything. I think it'd be a nice wedding gift for him to know you were wrong at least once."

"So I can take back the gravy boat?"

"We actually need one. If you seriously got us one, then no, you can't take it back," Emily quipped.

"If only I'd known you were in dire need of a gravy boat...So, when're you guys skating outta here?"

"Soon," Emily said.

Rossi sighed. "I don't know if there's anything I can say that I haven't already said. I suppose I can repeat myself. Congratulations, and it's pretty clear you make him happy. Happier than I've ever seen him. So as his friend, I thank you for being patient with him."

Shaking her head, Emily said, "It was more the other way around, actually. Very long story."

"Okay then. Can I say one more thing?" Rossi didn't wait for an answer. "I never thought of either of you ever having three kids, but you're doing a bang-up job."

"Thank you," Emily said, fingering a tear out of the corner of her eye.

"Don't mess up your makeup. All right, Reid's getting antsy. Goodbye for now."

"Goodnight." Emily started what she figured would be her last dance of the evening with an arm on Reid's shoulder.

"You look…really pretty," Reid said with a grin. It was the first time he'd found the nerve to say such a thing to her.

"Thank you. And you clean up good. Look at you, all your clothes matching," she teased.

"Only for you special occasions."

"I'm just teasing, you know. I love your style."

"So do I," Reid said confidently. After a while, Emily rested her cheek on his shoulder. "I wanted to make sure I said one thing to you tonight."

"What's that?"

"I can't picture better parents for Henry and Charlotte. I miss JJ and Will still, and I think about them all the time, but I think JJ would be thrilled with how you've handled things. And I don't think she would've minded that you guys ended up together in the end."

"I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's said to me all day," Emily said in wonderment, thinking about JJ's several attempts to push her and Hotch together.

"Even Hotch?"

"Well, you might be tied. You know, you would've made an amazing dad if you'd had the chance with Henry and Charlotte. And I'm sure you'll do so with some baby geniuses of your own someday. This might sound cheesy, but trust me when I say that all it takes is love, and the rest will fall into place. If that weren't the case, then I definitely wouldn't be standing here right now."

"You really think I'd make a good father? It took me about ten minutes to figure out which way was which on Charlotte's diaper that one time I babysat, I have to admit."

Emily didn't have the heart to disappoint Reid, who seemed at least proud of the fact that he'd supposedly succeeded in the end. "Everything starts out that way. Thankfully, you learn fast."

Reid smiled softly and kindly before his eyes widened. "I think someone else wants you now."

Emily watched Reid leave, looking around her for whomever it was that Reid had seen. Hotch waited with his hand held out; Emily took it letting him draw her near and lead her. "Perfect day," he proclaimed. Emily murmured her assent before locking lips with him, her hand abandoning his shoulder to curl gently over the back of his neck.

"Do you think you can wear this every day?" Hotch asked. "You wouldn't have to put your hair up. You know what it does to me when it's long, anyway. But the dress…"

"If only," Emily said with a giggle. "I can barely breathe, though. I can't wait to take this thing off."

Hotch leaned in closer and spoke faintly into Emily's ear. "Good thing I love the way you look in those little pajamas, too."

Emily had to bring a mouth to her hand to keep from laughing too loudly. "You and my pajamas…Unfortunately, I did not pack any. Just my robe."

Hotch's eyes lit up, detectable only to Emily. "The little red one?" he asked, sneaking mockingly covert glances around them.

"Yes, sir."

"Well then, why are we hanging around here?"

"Whose…lipstick is all over your cheek?" Emily asked out of nowhere.

"Let's see. Your mother's, Garcia's, Jessica's…what can I say? The ladies wouldn't leave me alone."

"Speaking of Garcia," Emily said, clearing her throat and grinning at their friend, who waited as patiently as possible at a nearby table. "I think someone wants a dance with you." Garcia must have heard Emily, because she stood and looked like she was chomping at the bit. "I'm gonna go say goodnight to my parents," Emily said, placing a lingering kiss on Hotch's lips, one that she didn't want to end but knew she could continue later.

Hotch watched Emily wander off in search of her parents, not even noticing Garcia until she took hold of his hand and shoulder. "Oh, hey," he said, offering her a small smile.

"I know, she's so pretty it's distracting."

"You can say that again. Have we not danced yet?" he asked in disbelief.

"No sirree, you've been ignoring me the entire night."

"I have? I'm sorry."

"Oh, please, Hotch. I'm just joking. Did you have a nice day?"

"It was amazing. Thank you again for all your help, and for talking Emily out of a City Hall wedding."

"No problem whatsoever. I do what I can. Thank _you_ for marrying her, even though I know you only did it _partly_ for me."

Hotch chuckled. "Thanks for being there for her. As much as I'd like to say she'd go crazy without me, I think she'd go crazier without you."

"Let's make a pact right now that we never come close to testing that theory. You in?"

"I'm in." Hotch's smile faded into the vaguest of grins as his eyes wandered off.

"She's just leaving her parents and coming back over here," Garcia informed him, guessing where his mind was. "And at that, I will leave you alone. Just let me say goodnight to her and she's all yours."

Emily exchanged a fleeting look with Hotch before she wrapped her arms around Garcia. "I love you, I love you, I love you," Emily moaned.

"I love you far more. But we can chat later. Go lose that bet," Garcia said with a kiss on the cheek.

"His mind is already on this little silk robe he likes. And as devilishly handsome as he looks in that tux, I've been undressing him with my eyes for the last hour. Sorry, but dinner's going to be on you. And we're going out somewhere really expensive, so start saving."

—

"Traditionalist," Hotch said with a cocked eyebrow as Emily gave him a strange look. He held his arms out for her in the hallway of their hotel.

She obliged and wrapped her arms around his neck, letting him hoist her up so he could carry her over the threshold. He'd never carried her before. She'd be lying if she said she didn't rather enjoy it. She then cleared her throat. "Where's the keycard?"

"Inside my jacket," Hotch said with a rolling belly laugh. "Good planning. Can you reach inside?"

Laughing like a fool, Emily reached inside Hotch's jacket, digging her hand between the two of them, until she found what she needed. She waited for Hotch to angle her properly, then swiped to get them inside.

"I wish I could call you Mrs. Hotchner," Hotch complained jokingly as he let Emily down. She mumbled something about a bag of Skittles before taking his mouth over with her own. "What was that?"

"Never mind. So, are you tired?"

**A/N: Reviews are love!  
**


	102. An Infinite Resource

Over the first week of their marriage, Emily came to realize that she and Garcia had been quite wrong. Although the logistical aspects of her and Hotch's relationship hadn't really changed, she found that the ring on her finger was much more than something to look at. Every kiss from Hotch lately had sparked up thoughts of what they would be doing for the rest of their lives, what the children would be like as they grew, and if she could ever possibly love him more than she did at that moment. He'd voiced the same sorts of feelings all week long.

The romance quotient had been upped in other ways, as well. Not only was their sex life back in full swing, but little romantic gestures were more frequent than usual as well. They had been keeping up with Wednesday lunches, and this week's had been accompanied by a bouquet of flowers. Emily had countered by making Hotch's favorite dishes on her nights to cook. The little touches and sweet nothings were, if possible, even more potent than before. Garcia had been right about one thing for certain—Emily was learning that love was an infinite resource, that her love for Hotch grew even more as time went on. Things _had_ changed, but certainly not in a bad way.

"You look a little starry-eyed," Hotch noted the Saturday after the wedding, once the children were all asleep. Emily sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket and waiting for Hotch to join her for a while before laundry loads called for switching.

Emily's lips curled and she opened up her cocoon, welcoming him inside. "When I think about it for too long, I'm still in shock, that's all. I know we've been more than friends for such a long time," she continued, nuzzling her cheek into his warm, sweatered chest, "but it's just so strange to think we've only actually been together for a couple of months. How many people are lucky enough to know for sure that they want to be with someone forever after only dating for two months?"

"We did kind of have a head start." Hotch closed the blanket around them and tightened his hold on her. "But you're right, it is pretty crazy, and we're pretty lucky." He contorted his neck to kiss her, but she suddenly backed away.

"I just threw up a little while ago while you were down in the basement. I brushed for ages but I still taste kind of funky."

"You're throwing up again?" Hotch asked as if he were talking to one of the children. He instinctively placed his hand on her forehead. "I thought that was just pre-wedding nerves."

"Me too," Emily said.

"How many times has it been since the wedding?"

"Two or three. Some things have just been tasting off, and then a few hours later I have to vomit." She shrugged helplessly.

Hotch remembered clearly what his brother had said to him the night before the wedding, not that he needed the insight. "Do you think you might be…"

"Pregnant?" Emily said casually. "I'm pretty sure that's nearly impossible. Have we had a condom break or anything?"

"Not that I'm aware of, but we did get lazy one night a few weeks ago. Pulling out's not exactly a hundred percent effective. Besides, they don't have to break not to be effective. Have you missed any pills?"

Emily shrugged. "Here and there, but it's not supposed to matter if you just miss a day. You just pop it as soon as you remember and you're good. Even if one method failed, what are the odds the other one failed, too?"

"Well, are you late?"

"No, I'm—wait, what's the date?" Emily asked.

"The tenth…"

She counted silently, her heart thrashing violently in her chest when she finished. "Shit…"

"How late?" Hotch asked, having sensed Emily's panic even before she'd cursed.

"Two days. I can't believe I didn't even realize I was late the day of. I'm never late. Well, you know, save for once. "

Hotch couldn't put the brakes on his imagination. Emily's stomach grew in his mind, very much pregnant with their child, despite her obvious dismay right now. "Okay, well, do you want me to go pick you up a test?"

Emily shuddered in his arms, swallowing. "I don't know. Let's just…wait until tomorrow.

Hotch pressed his lips to her forehead, his voice humming against her skin. "Do those things get more accurate when you're three days late versus two?"

"Probably not. I just want to know how I feel about this before I find out for sure."

"Then let's talk." Hotch rotated so he lay across the couch, his legs over Emily's, and patted his chest to get her to lie down with him. She squirmed out from beneath him and took up the rest of the space on the couch, spreading the blanket over them, her cheek taking up residence on his chest again. "You said before that you _want_ a baby, right?"

"I did, and I do," Emily said. She had wondered for much of her adult life what it would feel like to be in the visible stages of pregnancy, how mind-blowing it would be to carry a living being inside herself, especially once she was far enough along for that living being to take a recognizable form. Over the past few weeks, her mind hand wandered more and more toward change, though she hadn't said anything to Hotch. She didn't want to get his hopes up. But an honest conversation certainly seemed in order now.

"Okay, well, would it be the worst thing in the world if we were pregnant? You've explained your reservations, and it seems like they're based on intent. If we didn't _try_ to get pregnant, but we did anyway, would it mean the same thing as if we tried? Would you still feel guilty?"

"I guess not," Emily admitted. "But we can't raise a child if justifying his or her existence means reiterating the fact that he or she was an _oops_ baby."

"Then it's your own way of seeing it that you'd have to change. Because I really don't think the kids would ever feel the way you're afraid of them feeling. Trying for a baby is one thing. We agreed that we both had to be in on it. But if you're pregnant now, then you need to change the way you think about it. You can't beat yourself up over it. You have to look at this from a different perspective. You _want_ to be a mother, and you're going to be. That just…brings everything full circle. It doesn't damage anything. You don't have some finite amount of love, you know? You wouldn't have to take a portion away from me and each of the kids to love a new baby enough. That's not how it works."

"You really think I'm crazy?" Emily asked timidly, not hostilely.

Hotch laughed under his breath, then sighed deeply. "Not crazy."

"Silly?"

"Not silly. How about…well-meaning, but misguided?" When Emily didn't answer, Hotch thought for sure he'd just started their first marital fight.

However, Emily's fingers walked across his stomach, putting him at ease. "I guess I can stomach that."

"Then can you maybe let yourself be excited about us having a baby?"

"Hold your horses. We don't know for sure yet," Emily said, squeezing Hotch's side, though if she knew her body, the missed period wasn't just a fluke, and neither was the nausea. She definitely chalked up the weight gain to overeating, though. She couldn't blame him for forgetting that one percent, because she was effectually doing the same by having this conversation with him.

"Well, let's pretend we do know. Hypothetically, we're having a baby. Tell me what's going on in your head."

"I'm ecstatic," she confessed. The nagging feeling of how the other children would feel was not such a nagging feeling anymore. It was a thought vacated from her mind—at first gradually, and now the remainder went away quite suddenly. It was replaced with the overwhelming excitement at the notion of becoming a mother, of having a child with the man she loved most in the world.

"No reservations?" Hotch asked. It was almost too good to be true. Only a few minutes ago, their plans for the future had expressly excluded another child. Now, however, it seemed as though they were going to be new parents together after all, and Emily was actually thrilled with it to boot. He hadn't been in the doldrums about it for a long time, having accepted her decision, but this development was quite uplifting all the same.

"Maybe a little," Emily said, "but I definitely think they're being swapped out."

The washer or dryer buzzed downstairs, startling both of them. Instead of getting up, though, Emily reached an arm and a leg over to the other side of Hotch's body and hoisted herself up on top of him, lying cheek to cheek with him. She knew she couldn't lie directly on him for long. It just felt so intimate and called for that she couldn't deny herself.

"So how sure do you think you are?" Hotch asked, his hopes dangerously high. "Give me a percent."

"Hmm. Ninety-nine."

"Wow. So you're ninety-nine percent sure that we're going to have a baby together? I definitely like those odds," Hotch murmured with a swelling heart and nerves just as high as their wedding day.

"I'm going to be a mother…not just a mom, but a mother…and with you," Emily marveled.

"If you let me up, I'll go get a test," Hotch offered again. "Store's still open."

"Would it be weird of me to say I wouldn't mind staying up all night fantasizing about it? On the off chance that I'm wrong, I'd like to wait a while not knowing that."

"Yes, that would be weird, almost masochistic, but if that's what makes you happy…" Hotch couldn't help but let ninety-nine equate to a hundred in his mind. The signs didn't point to anything _but_ pregnancy, and for now, that was oddly good enough for him. "Would you rather have a boy or a girl?"

Emily hummed after a contented breath and shook her head, pulling away from Hotch. She sat on his lap and he folded his hands behind his head. "I know you're supposed to say you don't care either way, but I kind of want a girl. Charlotte and I are already outnumbered here. What about you?" she asked, flattening her palms against his chest and envisioning two young girls, close in age, one blonde and one brunette, holding hands on a walk together on a walk through the neighborhood.

"Well, if we're being honest, then I think I'd rather have a boy. The thought of one teenage girl is terrifying enough," Hotch said darkly.

"Is it the moodiness or the constant fear of a boy breaking her heart?" Emily slowly swept Hotch's bangs off his forehead, letting them bounce back and doing it again.

"A little bit of everything. But it goes without saying that if we were to have a girl, I'd still feel like the luckiest man alive. Cliché, I know, but I haven't spoken truer words since our wedding vows." He unfolded his hands, watching the tears creep into the corners of Emily's eyes. He placed his palm on her stomach, not foolish enough to think he could feel a difference, of course, and heard her groan. "What?"

"Nothing, I've just gained some weight recently. You don't feel the pudge?"

Hotch frowned and pinched her stomach, but not in her ticklish spot. "I think you're delusional.

"It's probably in my butt and my boobs, then," Emily said.

"Again, luckiest man alive…"

"I can always add to that if you want," Emily said with a smirk. "It's not from the baby," she explained, already referring to an unknown as an absolute. "Just from too much ice cream."

Hotch's hand found its way behind Emily and grabbed what he could. Her jeans did seem to fit more tightly than usual. She sat in just the wrong place in his lap, and the way one of his favorite body parts of hers felt in his hand had him stirring. His hand traveled up her back, under her shirt, and he wore a questioning smile.

"We should take care of the laundry first," Emily said sensibly. "Otherwise the boys won't have anything to wear to church in the morning."

Hotch volunteered to go fetch the laundry and met Emily in their bedroom with a basket of clean clothes. "It's ridiculous how much clothing they have and still go through in a week."

"Well, maybe if you didn't change their clothes every time they got a stain on them," Emily jabbed.

"And let them walk around looking like—"

"Like kids?" Emily smiled and grabbed an armful of clothes. "These sleeves are too short," Emily said, folding a shirt of Jack's and setting it aside.

"Saving it just in case it's a boy?"

Emily arched an eyebrow and reached blindly for the next piece, maintaining her playful gaze with Hotch. "You know, I need to check and see if my medication is safe for pregnancy. If not then I'll have to find something else, or brave it alone."

"You already took it tonight, right?" Emily nodded. "Then see if you can get a hold of your therapist tomorrow. Do you have an emergency number?" she nodded again. "Good. Hey, how did Charlie's sweater get in there?" Hotch asked, pointing to what Emily had just picked up.

"No idea," she said, holding up a cream colored zip-up sweater with lavender stripes and a hood with a tassel on top. "I think this is my favorite of hers but it's getting too small. Her tummy hangs out." She hugged the sweater to her chest, pouted, and folded it up. "For when I get my way and we have a girl," she noted, putting it next to Jack's shirt.

"What if we had one of each?"

"_Ha_! _Very_ funny. If we have twins, the only thing keeping me from killing you would be the fact that I'd need your help."

"It'd be that bad?" Hotch asked with a chuckle.

"I might be being a tad dramatic, but five is a pretty big number. We're Catholic, but we're not Irish Catholic," she said, pointing a finger at him.

"But we are sex fiends. People could always attribute the large number of children to that."

Emily put a pair of jeans down in her lap. "Do you really think so? I mean, most couples would be off spending this week inside a hotel room, surfacing only for food and a few drinks and maybe a swim. We're at home, living our everyday lives, keeping our pants on until bedtime."

"Em?" Hotch said, not looking up from the shirt he'd folded three times now.

"Yeah?" Emily switched with him, looking down as he looked up.

"I was joking,"

Emily's mouth froze open. "I knew that," she said after a moment.

"I can't get enough of you, but we've been pretty good."

"Maybe we should…I dunno…get a little adventurous. We deserve it if we've been so good, right?"

"Are you bored?" Hotch asked immediately.

"No, not at all. I think that just to make up for the fact that we're not taking a honeymoon until later, we could treat ourselves," she said with a mischievous grin.

"What exactly counts as adventurous? And how did we move from the topic of babies to sex?"

"I believe that was you." Emily pointed an accusatory finger. "As for adventurous, I don't know. I'd be more than happy to help you fulfill your car fantasy."

"Way too risky," Hotch said. "Former federal prosecutor and unit chief of an elite FBI profiling unit gets busted having sex in a public place? No thanks."

"How about we stay parked in the garage? That's not public."

"And thus it loses its appeal."

"Okay, stick in the mud. Where would be adventurous enough but not too daring?"

"Anywhere in the house, really, as long as the kids aren't here."

"Well, maybe we should ask someone to take them off our hands for the day so we can christen every room in the house." Emily had been teasing, but Hotch took her seriously.

"That sounds like a good idea, actually."

Emily laughed and rolled her eyes. "I can't believe we just figured out that I'm pregnant and we're talking about sex. Still."

Hotch folded the last shirt from the basket and set the basket on the floor. "Do you want to stop?"

"I don't know, is there a tasteful way to talk about both at the same time?"

Hotch chuckled. "I don't think so. Let's talk babies. What are you excited about?"

Emily let out a big puff of air before getting off of the bed and gathering up the folded clothes. "All of it, even the not-so-fun stuff. The soreness, the swollen ankles, the getting fat in other places besides my stomach, the peeing every half hour, the sleep deprivation…all of it is just the beginning of what I'll pay to have and raise a child, you know? I feel lucky that I get to experience that. And before you laugh, I'm sure I'll feel differently once all those things set in. I know I'm romanticizing it, but I can't help it."

"Then I won't make fun of you until the time comes," Hotch said, getting up as well and pulling off his sweater and jeans. "What else are you excited for?"

"The good stuff," Emily said from the closet, where she changed as well. "Seeing the ultrasounds, feeling it kick, the excuse to eat a little bit more, a reason to make you wait on me hand and foot, although I really have nothing to complain about. And then there's the extremely obvious, like the fact that I get to have a baby with you, a beautiful baby, and watch him or her grow into a functioning person. Watching Charlotte and Henry and Jack is already astounding. Especially Charlotte, just because she was so little when we first got her and she's walking and screaming at baby gates and using a sippy cup now. The fact that we get to see that all over again is such a blessing. What?" she asked when she saw Hotch come to the closet door and lean on the frame, arms crossed and a grin on his face.

"Nothing," he said softly, "I'm just glad to hear you so happy. And I'm glad that we're on the same page."

Emily's lips suddenly drooped, her heart aching with guilt. "I'm sorry I added that tension."

"You couldn't help it. You were just being honest."

"And insane."

"Cut yourself a break. We're not always going to agree on everything. This is one thing we do agree on now. Doesn't matter how long it took us to get here. We're here. We're having a baby, we're over the moon about it…nothing else matters. It's not like I've been miserable," he said, stepping closer to her and pulling her in by her sides. She donned her last clean pair of silk pajamas, for him, he knew. "Every second of this has been amazing. And I'm going to kiss you now, even if you have bad breath." He palmed her cheek and was halfway to her when she spoke.

"Oh, it's fine now. I used some mouthwash while you were downstairs. All better."

"In that case, I don't know why we're still talking."

—

Emily cracked all of her knuckles for the third time that night. Hotch, who lay in bed next to her reading a book while she wrote out thank you cards for their wedding gifts, gave her a third nasty look. He apparently hated the sound of cracking knuckles.

"Sorry, my hands are cramping up."

"And I've offered a dozen times to help you with those."

"Your handwriting isn't pretty enough. I told you. Besides, it's fun. Wouldn't be as much fun if we'd had a ton of guests, but we didn't, so I'm enjoying myself."

"Are you almost done?"

"Just finishing my last one," Emily announced triumphantly, adding one more line to Garcia's rather lengthy note, stuffing it into its miniature envelope, and licking the seal.

Hotch dog-eared his place in his book and set it aside. "Good."

"What, once wasn't enough?" Emily said playfully. "And on the closet floor, no less. Aren't you beat?"

"Take advantage of my stamina while I still have it. I'm not getting any younger. That aside, do you not want to?"

Emily answered by putting her supplies on her nightstand and scooting over to her husband, who waited patiently for an answer. She draped an arm over him, running her fingers gently down his side until she reached the edge of his boxers that he shouldn't have bothered putting back on. He snatched up her lips, groaning lightly against them when her hand slid underneath his shorts and teased him. "I think some pregnant women experienced increased sex drives," she said. "It's also been known to happen with newlyweds, but I'm going to thank my hormones instead."

"Should I thank them, too?"

Emily closed a fist around him, listening with delight as he hissed. "I'm thinking so."

"Hey, see? We fit sex and babies into the same sentence without trying too hard or being tacky."

—

Hotch and Emily sat together on the edge of their bathtub the next morning, Emily biting her fingernails and Hotch rubbing widening circles over her back. "How much time is left?" he asked, not sure why he was so nervous about a test whose only purpose was to tell them something they already knew.

"Two."

"Longest two minutes of your life?" Hotch deadpanned.

"Feeling like it, yeah. I almost texted Garcia but I figured we'd better be sure."

"I think that was a wise move."

Emily leaned into Hotch, yearning to be closer to him. With maternal fantasies playing out in her imagination again, she let her eyes drift shut and let them overtake any other thoughts. Just as she thought a minute must have gone by, Henry's unmistakable angry scream issued from down the hall. She had gotten up early to get to the store and buy a test, but apparently she'd been a couple minutes too slow, as the boys were now up.

"I'll go see what Jack did this time," Hotch said with a grin, leaving a kiss on Emily's temple. "I'll try to be back in…fifty seconds," he said, looking at the timer on Emily's phone.

"'Kay," she said absently, watching Hotch shut the bathroom door behind him.

"What's going on in here?" Hotch asked hurriedly, hoping conflict resolution would go quickly.

"Henry took my socks so I took them back," Jack replied.

"I don't have any," Henry moaned. His whine built into a full-on cry and Hotch rolled his eyes in despair.

"We have a bunch of clean clothes for you in our room. I'll go get you some, okay? And please keep things down. You know how cranky Charlie gets when she gets woken up like that. Go downstairs and wait for me. I'll come make you breakfast in a couple minutes."

Not wanting to make things easy for Hotch, Charlotte cried across the hall. Hotch hoped he wasn't running too short on time when he went to get the baby, who stood at the side of her crib, waiting to be freed. He picked her up, which was almost always enough to calm her down. "Don't tell anyone," he mumbled, "but rumor has it you have a baby brother or sister on the way. Want to go verify?"

She rubbed her eyes violently and shoved her face between his arm and his chest, quieted but not yet contented. "All right, then. I'll take that as a yes." By the time he reached the master bathroom, the door was still closed. "Em?" he asked, knocking lightly and opening the door a crack.

"Just a minute," she said. "I'll be out in a minute." He heard the sound of a cardboard box being opened. She had picked up two tests—perhaps she was opening up the second one to double check the results, whatever they had been. His stomach twisted and turned until she finally emerged, the toilet flushing behind her and her eyes swimming in tears.

**A/N: Please leave a review! :)**

**Some notes on the last chapter if you felt let down:**

On my choice last chapter not to include an overly detailed account of the wedding—We all know how weddings go. I included what scenes I felt made the wedding personalized for them, save for personalized wedding vows, which I think are great in theory, but didn't seem right to put down in words. I can't explain that any further, my apologies. I love the fluff element of this story, and I feel like that was one of the fluffiest chapters, at least to write. I felt like any more than that would've been too much, with no value added to the story.

Finally, I mean the following in the nicest way possible: regarding the honeymoon smut, like I said, you'll get that in a oneshot later. But there are some things that just don't fit the pace of a story. A major conflict in this story was getting Hotch and Emily to a point where they could overcome the obstacles in their way and be together. They've succeeded in that. Conflict keeps a story moving, but too much fluff centered around that success does not. Think about books you've read—usually, the resolution of the main conflict marks the end or near-end of the book, not the last half or third of the book. To me, Hotch and Emily's sexual issues have been worked out (not solved completely, but they know how to deal with them now) and I don't feel like more smut really fits with the story. They have one more conflict, and that involves having a baby, so that'll be the focus of the rest of the story. I hope from a literary standpoint you can understand why smut no longer has a place in the story. I got the sense that some of you were (jokingly or not) displeased that honeymoon smut wouldn't be included in the story, and that's my reasoning :)


	103. First Porch Smoke of the Season

Emily shook her head slowly before Hotch could even ask. She felt his free arm around her before her tears tickled her cheeks. It had been a long time since she'd felt so utterly stupid. The rug had been pulled out from beneath her, but she knew that if she'd thought with her head instead of her heart, she never would have gone to bed the night before without having taken a test. She wouldn't have told Hotch that she thought beyond an inkling that she was pregnant, even if she had. Now, not only was she let down, so was he.

"Did you take the other test?" he asked.

"No need," she mumbled. "My period came just now."

The negative readout on the first test and the arrival of her period had meant something different than her not being with child. She'd let her imagination run so wild the night before that she felt as if she had been pregnant and was now stripped of that, as opposed to merely being corrected on the issue. This sort of grief annoyed her to no end, because she knew that that wasn't what had happened at all, that she had just been foolish.

"Oh." The strain not to sound disappointed was a little too obvious, but Emily couldn't expect anything different from him.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have hyped it up so much…I shouldn't have even told you I was late. I should have lied and—"

"Are you seriously apologizing to me for being honest?" Hotch asked in utter disbelief, backing away from her somewhat. "Emily, you're my wife. The possibility of a pregnancy is a big deal. Do you really think I would have preferred that you keep this a secret?" he asked, his voice starting out befuddled and maybe a touch irritated, but finishing on a gentle note. She shrugged and fingered away her tears.

"You were so excited," Emily said shakily, making her way to their bed and sitting at the foot of it.

"And so were you, honey. We're on the same page, here. We both want a baby Just because we aren't pregnant now doesn't mean we can't try. Don't you want to try?" He sat down next to her and put Charlotte out on his knee.

"I feel so stupid," Emily moaned, leaning forward and hiding her face in her hands instead of answering Hotch's question.

"Please don't. A baby's a big deal. You had every right to be excited."

"I should've taken a test last night before letting myself _get_ excited."

"Maybe you…needed to get excited about it, to get past your doubts." Hotch brought a hand to Emily's back and stroked it comfortingly. "And now it's your choice, which is maybe even better, you know? I guess that's assuming you do want to try. Do you?"

"I don't know. I wonder how much of my excitement was forced by my thinking I was already pregnant."

"Can I answer that?" Hotch asked. Emily looked up at him with an odd expression on her tear-stained face. Hotch handed Charlotte to her; the baby threw her arms around Emily. "You want a baby, Emily. You want to be a mother. You've never pretended that wasn't the case. And when you thought you were pregnant, that resurfaced, and you realized that the doubts that you had about whether you were _allowed_ to want a baby weren't valid. Are you really going to sit here and tell me you have those doubts again now that you know you're not pregnant? Because you sounded pretty sure of yourself last night, even disregarding the fact that if we had been pregnant, it wouldn't have been intentional. I really don't even think that matters now."

"My head's in a million places right now," Emily said with exasperation, not bothering to try hiding it. "I…I know I wasn't actually pregnant, but I feel like I was, and that I lost a baby. I'm sure it's a million times more painful to go through that for real, but that's my mindset right now, that I lost something, not that I thought I had something but I didn't. And I feel really angry with myself. I'm sure I'll bounce back soon enough but I just need a little time."

"I hadn't thought of it that way," Hotch realized aloud. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to pressure you like that."

Emily shook her head fiercely. "No, no, no, you're fine. I'm not angry with you or anything. Just shaken up. Can we talk more about it tonight?"

Hotch pressed his lips to her temple. "Of course. Take all the time you need. Is there anything I can do? How are you feeling?"

"Like I've never hated my period more," Emily said with a dry laugh. Charlotte, now more wakeful, began to babble in Emily's lap. "But I'm okay. Do you want to go take care of the boys and I'll get Propaganda Baby ready?"

Hotch smirked and his eyes twinkled. "What on earth are you talking about?"

"Yeah, right. 'You look sad. Here, hold this adorable baby. By the way, do you want one of your own?'" To show that she found his tactics amusing rather than irritating, she cupped his cheek and laid a soft kiss on his lips.

"I love you," Hotch proclaimed with a smile, thumbing away the last of Emily's tears.

"I love you, too. I'll be ready to talk more tonight, I promise. I'm just really scattered right now. How do _you_ feel?"

"Disappointed, of course, but not hopeless. I think that even if this was heartbreaking, it was a big leap forward. Seeing you happy about having a baby just…I can't even tell you how happy that made me, too. But enough about me. I don't want to put any more pressure on you. We'll talk tonight. French toast?"

"If we can squeeze a hot breakfast in without running late, yeah. That sounds good."

Hotch wasn't ready to leave quite yet. Now that he had both arms free, he wrapped them snugly around Emily's back, smoothing his hand over it. "Do you want me to take the boys to church so you can stay home and have some time to yourself?" he offered offhandedly.

She hadn't needed the safety of his arms for a while, but she did now, and with her cheek pressed against his chest, the feel of his hands heating her back, she couldn't imagine preferring to be without him. "I don't want any time to myself. I need time to calm down, yeah, but I need you for that." He looked pleasantly surprised when she pulled away. "What? I do."

Hotch shrugged and let a trace of a grin show on his lips. "It's kind of nice to hear that."

"That being said, last time Jack was left downstairs without supervision, the floor ate breakfast, so—"

"On it."

Emily couldn't help but smile despite her circumstances. Hotch's need to _be_ needed was something she understood, but probably not fully. He took the stereotypically male role of protector to an extreme as part of his personality, and it was showing through now. He thrived on getting to fulfill that purpose, as did she at times, but he had her beat on that. This was certainly okay with her.

"Remember how I told you boys were stupid?" she asked Charlotte, getting up and heading to the nursery. "It's still mostly true, but your dad's a pretty perfect guy. You're lucky. Until you get old enough to want to date. Then you'll _hate_ him. He'll probably have a a Glock on the table every time he meets a guy who wants to take you out. He'll profile him, freak him out, essentially humiliate you. Only because he loves you, but still, you should maybe just avoid boys altogether. Might be easier. What is it with conversations with you that just get me rambling? You're just a really good listener, I guess."

—

"What's Daddy doing?" Jack asked later that day. Emily sat on the kitchen floor with Charlotte napping against her chest. Henry was taking his own nap upstairs, and Hotch was on all fours in front of the sink, trying to get a good view through the cabinet underneath.

"Fixing the sink drain."

"Who broke it?"

"Nobody. They just get full of stuff sometimes."

Jack made room for himself as well in Emily's lap. "Do you know how to do that, Daddy?"

"Yup," Hotch said, grunting a bit. "This lip hangs down too far. I can't see in and I can't really get a good feel."

"Unfortunately for me, that means you'll have to lie on your back instead," Emily said with a grin, forgetting their company.

"What do you mean?" Jack asked.

"Just that I really like your dad's jeans," Emily said, figuring it would amuse Hotch and only further confuse Jack.

"How come?"

Emily hadn't counted on Jack digging any further. "Well, because they look nice on him."

"Do you think Daddy's a chocolate fox?"

Hotch chuckled underneath the sink as he turned the couplings loose on the trap. Emily simply froze. "Where did you hear someone call your dad a chocolate fox?"

"I'll give you one guess," Hotch said.

"Not Daddy, Uncle Derek!" Jack explained. "Auntie Penny said he's a chocolate fox and she wants to have his babies. That means she thinks he's handsome, right?"

Emily hated Hotch for having the kitchen cabinet as a cover for his face, as she was having a hard time keeping hers straight. "Well, I don't think Daddy's a…chocolate fox…but I do think he's very handsome."

"So do you wanna have his babies?"

"You ask the most adorable questions," Emily said in a high-pitched voice, pinching one of Jack's cheeks until he giggled. "And we need to talk to all the aunties and uncles about what they say to you guys. How about you go play a video game for a bit?"

"Ooh, can I?"

"Pretty sure I just said you could." Emily sighed in relief when Jack ran off to the living room.

"That's just cheating, sending him off the play a video game," Hotch said, scooting out from beneath the sink and getting on his knees again. Emily heard water splash into a bucket.

"It's not my fault the kid has such uncanny timing and we have friends who can't filter themselves."

Hotch laughed again. "The sad thing is I don't feel the need to ask why she was saying something like that to Morgan and not her own boyfriend."

"That's Garcia for you."

"So you don't think I'm a chocolate fox?"

Emily's lips curled playfully. "How about a silver fox?"

"Hey, I'm not that old, and I plucked all my greys yesterday. Be nice."

"You don't need to pluck them. I _love_ your greys."

"That makes one of us," Hotch said as he reassembled the plumbing under the sink.

"As for having your babies…" Emily said under her breath, knowing of Jack's "supersonic selective hearing," as Hotch had phrased it.

Hotch waited until his work was finished before he turned around and came to sit next to Emily. "I thought you didn't want to talk until tonight?"

"Well, I do want to wait to talk in any depth, but I didn't want to leave you hanging. This morning, I wasn't really considering saying no to it. I'm sorry I was so out of it. I just felt like I couldn't think about it yet. I had myself _so_ convinced last night, that when we found out that we weren't…I was just in shock."

"I know, and it's okay. But what exactly are you saying?"

"I'm saying yes," Emily said, laying a kiss on Hotch's unsuspecting lips and relishing in the way he smiled against hers. "I wanna have your babies. Well, singular…I think one will be plenty good enough."

A short laugh of joyful disbelief escaped from deep within Hotch's stomach. "Wow."

"I'll leave it at that. You-know-who and you-know-who junior can spend the rest of the day asking us why we're grinning like idiots, and we can just keep grinning like idiots," she whispered, kissing him again. "And we'll talk more tonight."

Emily was as correct as ever in her prediction that they would be grinning like idiots the rest of the day. Not that they hadn't spent the past week in utter bliss anyway, but this was an entirely new dimension of happiness for them. However, Jack remained uncharacteristically imperceptive and Henry followed his lead.

"First porch smoke of the season?" Emily asked Hotch once she verified that the children were asleep. "I think it's almost sixty out."

"Really?"

Emily didn't need Hotch's answer to her question. He gladly followed her to one of their favorite spots. They had once toyed with the idea of only sitting out in the back yard, on the deck, but that place never quite lived up to the magic that was the front porch. They had to go into the garage and search for the chairs that had been put away for winter, but in no time they were seated side by side, enjoying such a cherished spot while for the first time holding each other without shame or guilt.

"Remember how we used to sit out here and talk and think about all the reasons we couldn't be together? Well, most of that was me, but still. And now we're married. It's completely surreal."

"It is." The simplicity of Hotch's words was calmingly characteristic.

Can you do me a favor?" Emily asked.

"Anything."

She turned to him and grinned at his eagerness. "Can you make sure to send your best swimmers? Because I really don't want this to be a long, drawn-out thing. I'm already getting old, time's a-tickin', and I think we've put in our time, you know? I think we deserve to have this go without a big struggle."

"Aye-aye," Hoch said with a tiny salute. "Hear that, fellas?" he asked, looking down and getting a soft chuckle out of Emily.

"God, I really hate my period," Emily moaned. "I really want to try right now."

"It's like our celibacy week all over again." Hotch lit up their first of what he was sure would be many cigarettes and took the first drag, then handed it to Emily.

"Except you're allowed to see me naked and we can still fool around to some extent."

"True."

"Mmm, I think I need a cold shower," Emily said after a few moment's silence, during which Hotch only assumed she had been thinking about things they couldn't do on the porch.

"Want to talk about the kids?"

"How about the ladies from my office?"

"Oh, yeah…how'd they take the news?" Hotch asked, ready to be amused.

"They were kind of miffed that they didn't get invited, but they were sweet all the same. Then one of them lit a candle to mourn the loss of a fine man. Does anyone at your office have the hots for me?" Emily asked as Hotch snickered quietly at her last line.

"I do. Does that count?"

"Oh, come on. Do they even know about me or the kids?"

"The basics. We're not a very chatty bunch. They like to talk about work and football and that's usually it. The few ladies in my area don't talk to me much. They know I have kids but apparently I'm still too scary to talk to."

"Aww, I remember being kind of scared of you. And now we're married and we're parents together. Weird how that works."

"Indeed. One of the guys did see my ring and congratulated me, by the way."

"Just one? Huh. Men. Okay, let's talk babies some more."

"Fine by me. So…no more doubts?"

"None. And I don't want to talk about how stupid I was," Emily said quickly.

"You weren't stupid."

"Whatever you want to call it, then. Moving on. We need to talk finances."

"Well, whether we have a boy or a girl, we have a ton of clothes, so we wouldn't need to buy a bunch of new stuff. We have all the equipment, furniture…Our insurance covers all the medical costs…so our main expenses will probably be daycare and diapers."

"I'm sure we'll be hit with plenty of expensive surprises, but I think you're right."

"Well, formula, too, to start, unless you're planning on breastfeeding."

"Of course I'm planning on breastfeeding. I'd like to take a crack at it, anyway."

"Good," Hotch said keenly. "I was hoping you would, but I didn't want to pressure you."

"Hey, this is your child, too," Emily said sweetly. "If there's _anything_ regarding the pregnancy or the baby that you're concerned about, I'd like for you to say so. Just because you won't be carrying the baby doesn't make it any less yours. Is there anything else?"

"Sure. Can we please have a boy?"

"I believe that's up to you, if I remember my sex ed correctly," Emily said, placing a hand on Hotch's thigh and giving it a squeeze. "If you want a boy, you'd better have a talk with your fellas. Is there anything serious you can think of?"

"Not at the moment."

"Okay, well, I can think of something. And this isn't intended to ruin the moment, but we both know how short life is, so I think you'll agree that we need to think about who would take the kids if something happened to us. I mean, we don't even have plans for both of us dying. We know that if I die, you get everyone, and if you die, I get everyone, but what if both of us die? I know Jessica would take Jack, but would she take Henry and Charlotte, too? And a fourth?"

"That's a really good question, and one I don't really have the answer to," Hotch admitted. "I think that's something we need to talk to Jessica about, and to Sean. I definitely want him involved, too, and I think he'd want to be."

"Good point. God, four kids…I never thought I would have four kids," Emily said in sheer awe. "Growing up an only child, it was weird enough when I went to my friends' houses and some of them had more than just one sibling. It always felt like a circus."

"It already is," Hotch pointed out.

"True. So we're just adding another clown, right?"

"Exactly. A boy clown," Hotch added, earning a look from Emily. "What? You know I'm just teasing. I'll be beyond happy either way."

"Do you think we should tell anyone we're trying?"

Hotch gave a non-committal noise and shrugged. "Garcia, if you want. But the more people we tell, the more people we'll have bugging us about it, remember. Every time we see them, the first question will always be about that. 'So, you knocked up yet?'"

"You raise another good point. I'll keep it between me and Garcia, then. Her birthday's coming up. I think this counts as a birthday gift, right? Or should I throw in a mani-pedi and brunch? Yeah, I think I definitely need to do something special for her," Emily said, answering her own question. "Considering all she's done for us, a new car might be in order."

"Hey, us first. Your car's making a weird noise and I don't know what it is."

"Then take it in to the mechanic," she said simply. "Oops."

"What?"

Emily laughed and snuffed out the cigarette butt. "I totally smoked the entire thing on my own. Sorry."

"I didn't even notice." Hotch lit up another and kept it to himself. He leaned back in his chair and pulled his wife a little closer to him before they sat for a long while in idyllic silence. "I don't think things could be any more perfect right now, Emily. I mean, besides the obvious…but I have faith that we'll have that in due time."

"Me too," Emily said sincerely. "You know, as much as it hurt this morning to find out we weren't having a baby, I think I'm a lot happier that it's happening this way. You're right—it's even better if we have a baby after both of us deciding we want one. As excited as I was last night, I think this will be even better."

"Like I said," Hotch said with a contented sigh, passing Emily the cigarette, "perfect."

**A/N: Please leave a review! I know this wasn't what everyone wanted to happen, but listen to Emily and Hotch—they know what they're talking about ;) **

**P.S. I know women can have spotting and still be pregnant, but Emily is not pregnant right now. That's why I threw in the negative test. **

**Thanks!**


	104. Hotch the Thinker

**A/N: Thanks to nyte-nurs for the medical help!  
**

Emily came home Tuesday evening with a bit of a spring in her step, which was much more than what could be said of her typical therapy nights. She saw Hotch raise a questioning eyebrow but she ignored it for now in favor of helping him get the kids ready for bed.

"Have you talked to Garcia yet?" Hotch asked covertly, arms crossed in the bathroom doorway while Emily dried Henry off after his bath. He shivered even after she pulled him close and wrapped his towel tightly around his body.

"No, not yet."

"Are we going to see Auntie Penny?" Jack cried, rushing back into the bathroom with only his pajama bottoms on.

"I am," Emily explained, casting Hotch a dirty look for turning her into the bad guy by mentioning Garcia's name, "but it's to have a grown-up conversation with her. You can come with me next time, though, okay? Besides, I'm just going to have lunch with her during work in a couple of days. You'll be in school." She rolled her eyes a little helplessly as Jack's shoulders slumped and he walked away dejectedly. "We still on for lunch tomorrow?" she asked Hotch with a renewed brightness to her voice.

"Of course." Hotch followed Emily and Henry into the boys' room.

"Mommy, how come you have to stay late at work on Tuesdays?" Jack asked.

Emily and Hotch exchanged a glance that said they felt lucky they hadn't been asked this sooner, as she'd been attending her therapy sessions for the most part on a regular basis for the last several months.

"Well…" Emily said slowly, sitting on the floor to finish drying Henry off. He raised his arms routinely while Hotch searched through his dresser for pajamas and tossed them to Emily. "We just have special meetings on Tuesday nights. But now they won't be so often. Only once a month now."

"Really?" Jack and Hotch asked at the same time. Jack seemed happy that his Tuesday nights would be complete once again; Hotch was surprised.

"Yup," she said to both of them. "Jack, wanna pick out a book?" Jack nodded diligently and walked to the three-shelf bookcase that housed the boys' favorites.

"Velveteen Rabbit!" he said excitedly, pulling from the bottom shelf a worn copy that had been his father's as a child.

"That's a long one," Emily said, sitting crossways on Jack's bed with Henry wrapped around her middle.

"Please?" Jack asked, Henry parroting him.

"I'll read it," Hotch said. "But you have to go in your own bed, Henry," he said more to Emily than anyone else. As much of a proponent for self-soothing as she claimed to be, Hotch had called her out a couple of times lately on coddling the boys. She went across the room and tucked Henry into his own bed, sitting at the foot of it and bunching his blankets and feet up in her hands as Hotch began to read. His deep, rich voice almost put her to sleep before it did Henry. It took all of Jack's willpower to keep his eyes open until the end of the book, which Hotch hardly had to look at to read. Their job done, they each kissed their nearest son and left the room, closing the door behind them.

"Charlotte's asleep early," Emily noted, leading the way back downstairs. "She okay?"

"Fine, just cranky. So, back to once a month?"

"Yeah. She thinks I should still check in, basically, but that I'm doing well, especially considering our recent big change and the stress that led up to it. By the way, apparently my antidepressants may have been causing the nausea. Makes no sense to me because I've been on them for months but apparently that doesn't matter. She switched me to something without that side effect."

"Did you tell her about our plans? Or is that not relevant?"

"Pretty much everything is relevant, so yeah, I told her. The new drug is safe for pregnancy."

"What did she think?"

Emily sunk into the couch, though she knew there were a couple of things on their to-do list. Hotch didn't say a thing about chores, just parked himself right next to her and reached for the remote control. "She thinks it's great. She, uh, did mention that she didn't want me to put too much pressure on myself, though."

"By doing what?"

Emily shrugged. "I don't know what she meant specifically, but I started thinking—"

"You know, whenever I hear those words now…" Hotch cut in teasingly.

"Hey, leave me alone. Not all my thoughts are irrational. Hear me out. I'm thinking that maybe I shouldn't share this with Garcia. Like you said, telling everyone is just going to get them on our cases, and I don't think it would be in some sort of intentionally annoying way, but out of genuine concern, and either one of those might be really stressful for both of us. And especially with Garcia…" Emily sighed and pushed herself further back into the couch. "She was hurt when I said we weren't going to try. She's since accepted it, I think. She at least hasn't asked me about it anymore. If I tell her we changed our minds, it'll thrill her, obviously, but what if we can't conceive? I'm not exactly in my reproductive prime, you know?"

"I understand. And I think this is probably a wise move."

"Really?" Emily hadn't been expecting Hotch to shoot her idea down, but she had at least imagined him rolling his eyes at yet another one of her theories. "You don't think I'm crazy?"

Emily's disbelief drew a grin across Hotch's face. "No, I don't think you're crazy. I think this is a sensible move. And privacy has nothing to do with it. I wouldn't mind Garcia knowing in the sense that she'd be privy to the information, but I think it would put pressure on you and if…you know, if we can't conceive, which is always a possibility no matter what our age our how healthy we are, you might feel even worse knowing that someone besides us was counting on a positive outcome. That's actually what scares me the most right now—not that there's a chance we might not be able to have a baby. _That_ I can handle. But I'm scared of how you might feel if that's what it comes down to. We'd both blame ourselves, naturally, and watching you be heartbroken and upset with yourself would be bad enough. But I don't want to add someone else's heartbreak to the mix, because that would just make it worse for you."

Emily swung her legs over Hotch's lap and hugged his waist, leaning in against him. "It sounds like you've thought about this more than I have," she said somberly. "I haven't really thought quite that far into the negative end of things. I mean, I know it's quite possible that I waited too long and I'm not a fertile Myrtle anymore, but I was trying to stay upbeat for you," she said with a small smile and a rub of his stomach.

"I'm sorry," Hotch said right away, pausing to think. "I'm not trying to be pessimistic, but I've…been in that situation before."

Emily's face sprung up and she took in Hotch's distant appearance. "What do you mean? Did you and Haley have a hard time?"

Hotch nodded. "We tried for two and a half years before we conceived. Sorry I never told you before."

"It was never really my business, so don't apologize. But do you mind if I ask whose…not whose _fault_ it was, but you know what I mean."

"If it had been an issue with my side of things, I would have slipped it into a conversation with you a long time ago. I know you've always wanted a baby. It wouldn't have been right of me to even consider a relationship with you without making that kind of information known. It was Haley. She really beat herself up about it. Every time her period came, we both fell apart a little. It got worse and worse each month, and it was more painful for her, directly, once we got tested and found out which side the problem was coming from. It killed me to see her like that. And her parents wanted a grandchild and were never shy about making that known when we first got married. She made it her mission to give them a grandchild. They passed away just a couple of years ago, but she was thrilled to give them a grandson. Anyway, she told Jessica, too, when we were trying, which seemed right at the time. They were best friends, shared everything. In fact, I'm pretty sure it was a lot like what you and Garcia have," Hotch said, stopping to smirk. "I loved that she had someone she was close to, but every time her period came, not only did she have to break it to me, she had to break it to Jessica, who was never anything but supportive—she never intentionally put any pressure on Haley, as far as I know—but Haley felt like she was letting her down, too, and it just made things that much harder on Haley. I was never going to suggest to you that you not tell Garcia, though, because the last time I suggested you withhold something from her—you know, with our first time together, or our first successful one, anyway—I felt like an asshole."

A short breath of a laugh left Emily's lips before she squeezed Hotch's side. "You weren't an asshole."

"What about when I asked you not to tell her when we became official?"

"Oh, the beginning of the most important relationship of my life? Yes, _that_ might have made you an asshole. That was just plain torture. But on a more mature note, I'm sorry you went through all of that. I always assumed you were older when you had Jack because of your career. I never thought it was something like this."

"Yeah," Hotch said rather vaguely. "Anyway, that's my two cents. I'm glad you had the same thoughts. Obviously, it's still up to you whether you tell Garcia, and you reserve the right to change your mind at any time, and all that fine print, but just know that I don't think you're crazy. Not today, anyway."

"Why, thank you," Emily said, pressing her thumb lightly into Hotch's cheek until he took her cue and leaned down to kiss her. "I really hope this doesn't take long. And by long I mean more than a few months. Does that sound impatient? I'll be forty-two this year. So even if we got pregnant a week from now, I'd be sixty by the time high school graduation rolls around. I'm going to be the one everyone thinks is the grandma."

"I highly doubt that. But if that's the case, then there's no way I won't be mistaken for the grandpa. But a lot of people are waiting longer these days. Maybe we won't be the only senior citizens moving their kid into a college dorm."

"I hope you're right."

"Can I ask you something?" Hotch asked.

"You just did."

He rolled his eyes. "You seemed particularly happy when you got home tonight, even though this isn't exactly the happiest subject you've brought up. Did I miss something?"

"No, you didn't miss anything. I'm just happy. And, for now, not too stressed about the baby thing aside from the fact that I _really_ wish I wasn't on my period right now. Seeing as how I didn't go in last week because I kind of treated it like our honeymoon as much as I could considering we didn't actually _go_ anywhere, the last time I saw her was the week before the wedding, and I was pulling my hair out for no good reason, and we know how stress can sometimes help trigger things. But this time, I just felt like I didn't really have anything to complain about, which is why we agreed that I don't really need to be coming every week anymore. And that made me happy, too. And I think it's for good this time. I know I got to this point in my therapy last year, too, where I wasn't going as often, but I still hadn't gotten completely past my issues. I know there's always the chance I could have another flashback, but I think that even if that happens, I'll be okay."

"I'm glad you've got such a bright outlook on things." Hotch cupped Emily's knee in his hand. "Given the fact that you're secure with where you are right now regarding your PTSD, do you think you could tell me what happened?" he asked with extreme caution. "I wouldn't ask if I didn't think you could handle it. But you seem like you can handle it, and you know I've always wanted to know."

"Not gonna lie, this feels like it came out of left field," Emily said quietly. When Hotch looked down to gauge her reaction more visually, she was looking at her fingernails, which she picked.

"Here's the thing. I will say that you don't _have_ to tell me. But I'll also say that I want to know, and you seem to be in the right mindset to talk about it." His eyes waited to get a glimpse of hers.

"It's not about whether I can talk about it, Aaron. It's about whether I think you should hear it, and I—"

"If that's your only concern, then please, trust me."

"It's not a matter of trust. You can't help how this type of thing would affect you. You have no control over how you'll feel."

"Emily, look at me." It took Hotch's soft but commanding tone and a hand running through her hair to get Emily to look up at him. "I'm your husband. Yes, this kind of information will rattle me because you mean the world to me. But I need you to _trust_ me when I say that I still want to know. I know it's sick, I know it's masochistic, but I want to know." He tried not to look surprised when Emily actually nodded.

"Okay," she said with a shaky sigh, "but can you promise me one thing?"

"What is it?"

"That you'll try not to see me as a victim. I'm past all of this. I survived it. It's you that I'm worried about. If you can think of this simply as something that happened, something I went through, but not something that destroyed me—even though it has seemed that way in the past—then I think this will be a lot easier to stomach. All I need you to promise is that you'll try to remember that."

"I promise."

"Oh, and one more thing. Neutral territory. We've had too many nice memories on this couch, and on the porch, and in bed, so pick a different place."

"Ironically, we've never really had any romantic moments on the loveseat. How about that?"

Emily nodded and got up from the couch, taking Hotch's hand for the three steps over to the loveseat. They sat seriously, side by side. "If you need me to stop, or if you have questions, let me know," Emily said before sucking in a deep breath.

**Three Days Later**

Hotch had kept up his end of the bargain. He'd tried his hardest to think of Emily as a survivor instead of a victim. That struggle had been written plainly on his face throughout the abbreviated version of Emily's story and afterward. Every time a tear had rolled down his cheek during her tale, his eyes had widened in some strange attempt to swallow his emotions back up, to put on a brave face for her, to think about things differently than he wanted to. He'd tried. But Emily hadn't been quite sure that he had succeeded. The night she'd told him, he'd seemed afraid to touch her at first. It was only upon her insistence that he fall asleep holding her. His aversion to chaste physical affection didn't last long, but he'd still seemed like he'd been playing her words over and over again, every last revolting one. Today had been better, though—had given Emily hope that she hadn't crushed his heart to smithereens. And tonight seemed to be improving upon today. At Emily's announcement earlier in the evening that her period had ended, Hotch had grown extra affectionate, signaling to Emily that even if he did see her differently now, it wasn't necessarily a bad sort of different.

"Sweetie?" Emily asked, putting down a suspense novel she had been reading in bed just for show. Hotch sat next to her with the next book in the series, his mind probably not on the pages either. His eyebrows were lifted quite high when he looked over at her.

"Uh-oh, term of endearment. What exactly do you want?" he quipped, setting his book aside.

"Very funny. I just wanted to, I don't know, check in. See how you're doing. With the whole thing from a few nights ago," she said, clearing her throat.

Hotch's answer wasn't verbal. Instead, he touched his palm to the side of her face and kissed her so fervently that she wondered if she'd asked something else entirely.

She giggled when he broke away. "I take it you mean to say you're okay?"

"I'm okay," he said with quiet confidence. "It was hard not to just feel angry and sorry for you when you first told me. But the more I think about it, and about how hard you've pushed to get past all of it, and how you succeeded, the more easily I can let go of the victim mentality. It'll never disappear completely, and I'll never forget how horrific it all seems, but I think I see the stronger side of you much more than the injured side now." Hotch slid down, lying underneath the covers, and Emily followed suit. "You're strong. So much stronger than I ever realized."

"Okay, I get it. You're okay," Emily said bashfully, rolling her eyes behind her eyelids.

"I'm more than okay. I'm married to the bravest person I know."

Emily half grinned in acceptance of Hotch's compliment. "So you're not…afraid to make love to me?"

"No, I'm not. The other night, yes, I would have been. And maybe even last night. It just took a lot of thinking. I even thought about asking you if we could go see your therapist together again, at first. But I purposely waited until a time when I knew we wouldn't be getting intimate anyway. I wanted to give myself some time to process and minimize the risk that this would hurt our love life, because I know you inside and out, and I knew you'd feel guilty if that happened."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Emily observed.

"I've been doing nothing but thinking for the past week," he said wearily. "I could really go for some sort of activity that doesn't involve too much brain power," he said, his voice barely registering above a whisper as he hooked his thumb underneath the waistband of Emily's pointlessly short shorts. "Care to make a baby?"

A serene yet at the same time seductive smile spread across Emily's lips as she grabbed hold of Hotch by his t-shirt and guided him over her. "You _do _know all about ovulation and such, right?"

"Yes," Hotch said with a chuckle, his nose pressing into Emily's neck as he nibbled on it. "I know, our odds are much better, say, between one and two weeks from now, assuming your menstrual cycle is twenty-eight days, and even that's wishful thinking since you just stopped taking the pill."

"Okay, even I didn't know when I ovulated down to such a specific window, but I think you're right about the pill," Emily said, wasting no time worming her way out of her pajamas while Hotch watched. "You seem to have the female reproductive system down pat. Would you like to be the calendar keeper?"

"How about…" Hotch took Emily's earlobe gently between his teeth, then rolled to the side to slip off his own shorts. "…How about we just make love when we want to, and see what happens, not worry our heads about a baby too much?" He peeled off his shirt, then hovered over her again. "If too much time goes by, we can get scientific. But let's try to give it a few months first."

"All right, all right. I'm in the moment now. Are you?"

**A/N: Please leave a review!  
**


	105. Tequila, a Honeymoon, and Another Test

**July 2012 (Present Day)**

Hotch and Emily had learned their lesson from the first pregnancy test. Although Emily was a day late and she and Hotch had wanted to find out all day whether it wasn't just a fluke this time, they had waited until all the children were in bed before checking the expiration date on the leftover test from four months ago.

Hotch had secretly taken up the task of calendar keeper, wanting to help speed things along and make sure that, since they had dialed down their frequency save for when they had gone on their honeymoon, they at least tried on Emily's most fertile days. He hadn't gone so far as to buy any sort of kit to track things simply because he had told Emily that step could wait. He felt hypocritical, but that was the least of his worries. He figured Emily was doing the same thing anyway.

Along with Hotch tracking Emily's cycle came knowing when she was due for her period. She hadn't had to tell him she was late. That morning, knowing she had been due the day before at some point, Hotch had asked her outright. She'd given the news that should have made her beam with anticipation, but she'd seemed painfully distant instead. Hotch had tried his best to remind her that he loved her regardless, but the funk into which she'd again slipped gradually over the last week prevailed, closing her off to him.

"I'm sorry," she said to Hotch that evening as she took the plastic stick out of its container. "I know I've been kind of…dead all day. I'm just—on one hand, I'm trying to be realistic, trying to remember that one day isn't all that late, so I shouldn't get my hopes up. And I'm trying to remember that if it's still a 'no' this time, we can keep trying. And I'm trying to remind myself that it's normal to have to try for several months." She stopped when she felt Hotch close his arms around her and draw her near, forcing her cheek against his shoulder. "I just really want a baby. Ever since we decided to try, I've been obsessing. All the good things that have been happening lately get overshadowed. The honeymoon was amazing and I'm already down in the dumps again and that just…_pisses me off._ I know I'm being unreasonably impatient—"

"Emily, I know exactly what you're feeling. Remember?" His hands traveled up and down the entire length of her back, pressing her more firmly against him.

"Yeah, but you guys went two and a half years. It's only really been three or four months for us. I like how I can get over abduction and sexual abuse but I can't handle my own period."

"Please, stop being so down on yourself. You have a right to be upset. This is something you've wanted for years. You can be as frustrated as you want to be, as long as you remember that I'm right here and you can vent to me anytime you need to."

Emily drew back and took in Hotch's concerned countenance, in awe of his otherwise calm presentation. "You're not going to tell me I'm crazy for being so worried? Last month's meltdown was nothing compared to how short I've been with you this past week."

Hotch shook his head. "I don't want you to be in pain, but who am I to tell you that it shouldn't hurt? Even if I hadn't been through this process before, it wouldn't be right of me. But I _will_ remind you constantly that I love you no matter what."

Emily didn't smile at this, disappointing Hotch at first. If anything, she looked even more upset with herself. "What did I do to deserve you?"

**April 2012**

"You have a glow," Garcia said curiously to Emily one night while the two of them were out for drinks. "Not a pregnant woman's glow, but a…'I just had the best sex of my life' glow. _Did_ you just have the best sex of your life?"

Emily laughed under her breath, shaking her head. "No. Well, this morning was pretty good, but that was over twelve hours ago."

"How you have the energy to get up early on a Saturday and actually have good sex after working and chasing around three monkeys all week is just astounding to me."

Emily wanted to mention that the constant lovemaking, though they still both enjoyed it thoroughly, kept them almost as tired as their three children and fulltime jobs. However, she didn't want to risk letting it slip that the frequent sex was for any sort of purpose beyond enjoying their new marriage, so she didn't bring it up. She simply smiled and took a long sip of her margarita. Her monthly visitor had dropped by just a few hours ago. For a moment, she was surprised this news hadn't gotten her down enough to cry, even in secret. But she and Hotch had both known that their first month would probably just be a very enjoyable practice round, that they would be lucky if she were to ovulate after being so freshly off the pill.

"Hey, I just realized something," Garcia said abruptly, her cocktail splashing over the edge of its shallow glass when she set it down. "Wasn't it April when you and Hotch first fooled around at his apartment? It's kind of like your anniversary. Or at least his anniversary of him seeing you without a shirt, right? So it's like his boobiversary. And it's definitely your kissiversary."

Emily successfully withheld a snort, but she did inhale just a drop of her drink, which sent her into a coughing fit.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry," Garcia said, cackling, one hand on Emily's still shaking shoulder.

Emily's eyes were red and wet when she got her breath back. "It's okay," she said, laughing. "Umm, yeah, it has been four years. I won't ask how you knew what month it was."

"Good idea."

"God, I love that couch," Emily said with a cheerfully distant tone of voice.

"The _couch_? Excuse me? Is this the same couch that's in your living room?"

"If I tell you yes, will you be forever afraid to sit on it?" Emily cracked.

"Well, since you didn't _actually_ do the nasty on it…"

"Not that time, anyway. Don't worry, though, we used a blanket," Emily said with a wink.

"Thanks a lot for that," Garcia said, cringing for show. "_Hey, hang on…_when Reid and I offered to take the kiddies to lunch and a movie last Saturday, is that what you were doing? Defiling your living room furniture?"

Emily grinned at the memory. "Among other things."

"Ooh, ooh, please tell me you did it on top of the washer. Kevin and I have always wanted to try that but our apartments both have the dryer stacked on top of the washer."

Emily's grin stretched into a mildly embarrassed smile. "Maybe."

"That's it. Kevin and I are pooling our resources and moving in together, and into a better place with side-by-side laundry machines."

"Do it when it's off-balance."

—

"Have fun?" Hotch asked when Emily got home to a quiet house. When she sat sideways on his lap on the couch and wrapped her arms around his neck, he set aside his book.

"Lots," she said before laying her lips lazily on his.

"You smell like tequila," he noted.

"That's because I drank tequila. Lots." She giggled over her inebriation and kissed him again.

"You didn't drive, did you?"

"Mm-mm," she said faintly. "I called a cab."

"The drinking binge didn't have anything to do with today, did it?" Hotch asked, unable to hide his concern. Emily had seemed fine a few hours ago when they had found out that they would be trying for at least another month.

"No, no, I'm fine. We knew it wasn't gonna happen this month anyway." She hiccupped. "Garcia and I were just talking about all the great places to make love outside the bedroom." She scooted off his lap, letting her legs stretch across it instead as she sat next to him.

"So she knows about last weekend?"

"Not all of it. I didn't tell her about the kitchen. Sounds too unsanitary." Emily stopped to give Hotch another kiss, parting her lips for him this time. "Speaking of kitchen," she said suddenly, breaking the kiss, "there's a bottle of vodka in the freezer. It's no fun being the sober person in the room—want to do a couple shots?"

**May 2012**

"Started my period at work today," Emily said covertly to Hotch as they dished up dinner before gathering the children.

"Oh. Are you okay?"

Emily sucked in her lips and nodded. "Yeah, I think so. I mean, it's still early. We have plenty of time."

"Exactly." Hotch circled the dining room table and took a dish of mixed vegetables out of Emily's hand, setting it down with the flatware he carried.

"I love you," she said with something like a moan as he simply hugged her.

"I love you more," he said playfully, trying to lighten the mood. Emily's mood was turning downhill faster than he'd hoped or expected it would. "The trying is still fun, right?"

"Of course. Maybe we should cool it down just a little to let your body recharge, though, you know what I mean? I'm sure your sperm count isn't as high each time if we're going at it four nights a week."

"True."

"I'm sorry," Emily sighed, backing off and grabbing the vegetables again. "I'm getting all scientific about it already."

"Do you want to cool things down to improve our chances, or are you getting tired or bored?" Hotch asked, keeping an eye and ear out for the kids, should they come to the dining room before being summoned.

Emily's stomach turned. "I really only meant from a baby-making standpoint, I swear. Everything's still great. I'm still great. _You're_ still great. We're still great."

"You're repeating yourself," Hotch said suspiciously.

"You're profiling," Emily scolded, pointing a finger at him. "I promise you, if the sex goes downhill, I'll speak up. I trust you'll do the same."

"Of course. Do you want dessert tonight?" he asked, trying to turn the conversation toward the light again.

Emily took his question the wrong way. "I'm sorry, I really don't feel like being touched right now. I feel…gross down there. I know some people do it, but—"

Hotch chuckled. "I meant the G-rated version of dessert. Go look in the freezer."

Emily stuck her bottom lip out, then slowly smiled. "Did you get me ice cream?"

"Yeah, but keep your voice down. I stopped for diapers on the way home from getting the kids. I only had so much cash on me and I couldn't find my credit or debit card but that cookie flavor you like so much was on sale. I had Charlie hang onto it in the cart and the boys didn't notice."

"If I could clone you, I would be the richest woman in history." Emily gave up on serving dinner and took the flatware out of Hotch's hands this time. "I'm going to kiss you now, but it's not just for the ice cream. It's _mostly_ for the ice cream but it's also because I love you, which I guess you already know."

**June 2012**

"Well?" Hotch asked a little more eagerly than planned when Emily got home after picking up the kids from daycare. She carried a few plastic shopping bags on her arm; he saw when she set Charlotte down and the latter toddled over to him.

Emily held out the bags so Hotch could see the tampons inside one of them.

Hotch's heart sank just as quickly as Emily's hand, but he rebounded sooner. "Are you okay?" he asked, though he knew from her now glistening eyes that she wasn't.

"No, not yet. I've been holding it in all day. I need a minute," she said, seeking permission from his eyes to hide out somewhere until she could calm herself.

"Dinner's in the oven and the boys are already playing outside. Let's sit." Hotch led the way into the living room and sat down with Charlotte, who, immediately upon him sitting, wanted to get down. Hotch let her go and guided Emily down next to him. "I'm sorry. I know it's rough," he murmured when her breath started to shake.

"I'm glad we didn't tell anyone. This is hard enough," she said stuffily. "The last two times, I've gotten this very sneaking suspicion that it's not going to happen, but I ignored it. I knew I was being stupid. And I know I'm still being stupid, but I can't stop the paranoia this time. I know I shouldn't be scared but I can't control it. I'm sorry I'm a wreck."

"No apologizing. You want a baby and it's the number one thing on both our minds lately. It's bound to get more and more frustrating. How about this—if one more month goes by and there's still no baby, we get an ovulation tracking kit, do that whole thing, make sure we're trying on the important days, all right?"

Emily fell to the side, into the husband she felt lucky beyond words to have found, and nodded. "Okay."

"Want to tone things down a little?" Hotch asked, having sensed over the past few weeks that the heat wasn't quite so hot.

Emily said or did nothing at first, but then let out a tiny nod. "I love being with you, but I don't want it to become solely about having a baby, and it's starting to feel that way."

"Okay, that's fine. We're lucky we made it this far without starting to feel that way, actually."

"Maybe we should get a kit now."

Hotch shook his head. "One more month. We can even call it a vacation from trying. The pressure's too much right now. I think we could both use a break from that."

"All right."

"In the meantime, you know what I think we should do?"

"Hmm?"

"We should go on our honeymoon. Jess said to me a few weeks ago that if we ever actually went, she'd be happy to take the kids."

"Really?"

"Yeah," Hotch said, squeezing Emily's shoulder. "I think we could use a stress-free week. How about the Outer Banks?"

"Not too bad of a drive," Emily said.

"Exactly. We could have our little road trip to unwind, and by the time we get there, it'll be a good fifteen degrees warmer than it is here, and we can just sit on the beach all day if we want. Can you get the vacation time for, say, two weeks from now?"

Emily nodded again, this time with much more pep. "I'll stop at nothing. You've given me a new obsession."

**July 2012 (Present Day)**

"Relax," Hotch said, holding Emily's hand and interlocking fingers with her as they sat at the foot of their neatly made bed that hadn't been used for anything but sleeping in a few nights now. "Remember our honeymoon. The beach, the sound of the waves at night, the one day where we never got dressed, the head start we got on the way there," he said with a slight chuckle, garnering a smile out of Emily as well.

"I got you to have sex in an SUV and it wasn't parked in a garage."

"Exactly. There's nothing you can't do."

Emily laughed, squeezing Hotch's hand. "You know, that was the one time I wished we'd bought a Suburban instead. It almost felt like we were sneaking off on a case or something."

"Maybe we should trade it in…"

Emily sighed and flopped onto her back, bouncing a bit on the mattress. Hotch lay next to her, placing his free hand on her stomach. "I know I shouldn't say this, but I really think this is it. I really do." He rubbed a circle over her lower abdomen and placed a kiss on her cheek. "And if it turns out negative, you have my permission to punish me as you wish for getting your hopes up."

Emily's head lolled to the side and she gave her husband a smile. "I need the optimism. It is foolhardy, but whatever. I need two minutes where I'm not convinced this is never going to happen. This is great."

"One minute," Hotch corrected, checking his watch.

"I know I just peed, but I really have to again. Damn nerves," Emily said with a strangled moan. "If we're pregnant, I may jump into your arms. Are you prepared for that?"

"Absolutely."

The next forty-five seconds went by in complete silence, save for deep breaths that were intended to calm but were ineffective. Hotch looked at his watch again. "Almost time. Let's get up." He rose first, holding both his hands out for Emily and pulling her out of bed.

"Thank God I got a digital one," Emily said, her voice quavering. "Can you imagine sitting here and arguing about whether it looks positive or negative?"

"That wouldn't be fun. Okay," Hotch said with a heavy breath. "Ready?"

"Ready." Together they leaned over the bathroom counter. Emily's hands shot straight to her wide open mouth. "That _does_ say 'pregnant,' right?"

Hotch laughed and enveloped her completely. "Ohhh, my God," he mumbled into her hair. "We're gonna have a baby." He almost didn't hear Emily's light sniffles over the thudding of his own heart. "Are you okay?" he asked, nudging her away and holding her a foot away from him.

She nodded, her mouth still hidden behind her now shaking hands. "Can I jump now?"

**A/N: ****Please leave a review! Thanks!**

**The regular reviewer oneshot will be the missing car sex scene. So if that's something you're interested in reading, you know what to do - review all or most chapters of ATT! :) There will be more tie-in oneshots as well that are not just for regular reviewers—I'll be posting them to FFN.**


	106. The Last Surprise

**August 2012**

"Call her." Hotch's voice was stern, not matching their surroundings a bit. They lay side by side in bed, the lights out, his hand gliding along her bare stomach, ignoring, for now, the other equally naked parts of her body.

"I will. After the sonogram tomorrow."

"It's been seven weeks since we found out, and ever since, you stress every time you go out with her because you think you're going to spill the beans or you think she's going to see. You even turned her down last time because you didn't want to be obvious with not being able to drink."

"I can't help it," Emily moaned. "A lot of people wait until the first trimester's over. _I _only want to wait until the sonogram. I just want to make sure this isn't some hysterical pregnancy, and that everything's okay in there."

"But you also want your best friend to know."

"My best friend does know," Emily replied, placing her hand on top of Hotch's and barely covering it.

"Sorry, I meant your best friend that didn't donate sperm to the cause. You know she's going to kill you for not having told her sooner, right?" he asked with a grin.

"Of course. So if I'm already in trouble, what's one more day?"

Hotch laughed gently and rolled onto his back. "You've been itching to tell her this entire time. And for every couple out there who waits until the first trimester's over before telling anyone, there are probably two more who tell anyone who will listen, the minute they find out."

"And you can tell Sean and Jessica, or whomever, if you want."

"No, I can't. I'm not telling anyone until you tell Garcia. And what did I say about saying my brother's name in bed?"

Emily cracked a mischievous smile. "You said to stop calling it out when I come."

"Not funny," Hotch said menacingly, his fingers walking to her ticklish spot.

"Don't you dare. You tickle me and…"

"And what?" Hotch asked.

"You tickle me and I don't go down on you again until after the baby's born. Really think you can last until March without another blowjob? Probably longer than that, too, because I'll be tired." Hotch moved his hand back down, a twinkle in his eye. "Just as I suspected."

"We should get some sleep," Hotch said after another light laugh. "Big day tomorrow."

Emily hummed pleasantly and pulled the covers snugly over her shoulder.

"Chilly?" Hotch asked.

"The air is cranked a bit high," Emily admitted. She grabbed Hotch's arm when he moved to get up. "Hold on to personal favors. You'll need them six or seven months from now."

—

"Nervous?" Hotch asked pointlessly. Emily was as white as the sheet that covered her from the waist down on an examining table while they waited for their ultrasound technician.

"Like you wouldn't believe. And I've never had to pee more in my life."

"Get used to the peeing thing. You'll be going every half hour in no time." Hotch placed a hand on Emily's stomach again, brushing his thumb over it through the sheet. Two knocks sounded at the door and the technician entered, smiling. She was easily younger than both of them, but she exuded confidence, which set Emily at ease; despite hours of research online and in books, and hearing tidbits of Hotch's experience, Emily still felt rather in the dark.

"I'm Theresa. Emily…Prentiss?"

Emily nodded and smiled back. "And this is Aaron."

"Daddy?" Theresa asked with a grin.

"So she says," Hotch quipped.

"That's not even close to funny," Emily snipped, patting his stomach with the back of her hand.

Theresa smirked as she set up her equipment. "So, we'll be taking a look at your baby today. We should even be able to see a heartbeat. Did you want to record the sonogram?"

"Oh, yeah." Emily went for her purse, but realized it was on the floor. Hotch reached down and grabbed the blank disc they'd brought with them, handing it over. "Can you move the sheet down for me, please?" the technician asked while she finished preparing.

Emily nodded and took in a deep breath, wishing the talking could stop, that she and Hotch could just see their baby. "Are you going to start soon?"

"Em," Hotch mumbled, "let her do her job."

"I'm sorry, I'm just nervous. I don't mean to be rude."

"It's all right," Theresa said. "Do you have any questions before we start?"

"Actually, one…is it normal for me to be showing already?"

"Well, what's 'showing' to you probably isn't to anyone else. But everyone's a little bit different. Is this your first pregnancy?"

Emily shook her head. "Uh, no. I had an abortion when I was a teenager," she said with much more than a tinge of guilt. Her would-be baby had crossed her mind several times ever since she and Hotch had decided to try, but thankfully, it usually didn't linger for long.

"Okay," Theresa responded, no judgment evident in her tone. "A bump this big, this early, when you haven't carried a baby to term already, isn't terribly common. But everyone's different. _Might_ be twins, though, you never know," Theresa teased.

"Oh, God, please don't say that," Emily groaned. "I'm kidding, of course. The more the merrier."

"Emily, relax," Hotch muttered, finding a hand and closing his around it.

"Sorry," Emily said to the technician.

"No worries. Common reaction. No one really finds that joke funny. Not sure why I keep using it. It's warmed up, don't worry," Theresa said when Emily winced at the gel she was about to dispense. "All righty, let's take a look."

Emily's and Hotch's eyes were glued to the screen.

"See that right there?" Theresa said, putting her finger on the screen.

Emily's breath caught in her throat and she could hear Hotch choking up, his face right near hers. "Is that the heartbeat?"

Theresa nodded and smiled somewhat sneakily, but neither Hotch nor Emily was paying attention to her face.

"That's our baby," Hotch said, giving Emily's hand a firm squeeze and using his other hand to brush her hair away from her face. Together they stared in awe at what they had created, while the technician took some measurements.

When Theresa moved the wand, something else came into focus on the monitor. Emily's eyes grew wide. "What's that?" Emily asked quickly, in a short, shallow breath.

"That's your _other_ baby. Twins, congratulations. That is, unless I run across more. At first glance, it looks like they're the same size, which is good. And two very strong heartbeats."

Hotch listened to every word that left the technician's mouth, but Emily stopped listening at 'twins.' As the tears flowed freely, she felt Hotch's grip on her hand tighten yet again, felt his other hand join in.

"Two babies," Hotch said in awestruck wonder.

Emily wasn't sure how she managed to get any words out at all. "Wow…"

"Are you okay?" he asked Emily, chuckling at her shortness on words.

When she smiled, the corners of her lips caught her salty tears. "Never better."

—

"You can't tell _anyone_. Not even my mom knows yet," Emily warned Garcia, who had come over that evening, eagerly answering Emily's summons. "And definitely not the kids."

"Okay, I love you, but you're driving me bat-whacky. My heart's been beating like I've run a marathon ever since you called me and told me you had something important to show me. Nobody likes cryptic people. Hurry it up."

Emily made herself comfortable between Garcia and Hotch, holding hands with each of them. Hotch pressed a button on the remote and the video started. Even though Emily and Hotch had watched the recording as many times as they could already since the children had gone to bed, the image of the twins still didn't cease to render them both speechless and almost breathless.

"That's Baby A," Emily said to Garcia, looking over to see her covering her entire face with her free hand, save for her widened, watering eyes.

"Baby A?" Garcia said after a gasp. "Does that mean there's a Baby B?"

"Coming right up," Hotch said.

"_Twins_? Are you kidding me? I not only get to be an auntie again but to _twins_?"

"Replace 'auntie' with 'mommy' and that's what I've been hearing all day," Hotch teased, slinging his arm behind Emily and laying his hand over her opposite shoulder.

Garcia leaned forward, cutting off the circulation in Emily's fingers while she watched with rapt attention. "Here comes Baby B," Emily said as Garcia closed in against her.

"I can't believe we're—_you're_—going to have a baby," Garcia said, freeing her hand and putting both over her heart. "_Two_ babies. I'm so happy for you I could scream, but I don't want to wake the munchkins up." The video ended and Garcia wrapped her arms around Emily, swaying her to and fro. "When do you get to find out the sex? Sexes, I mean. Oh my God, you're having twins! Hopefully I stop forgetting soon, because it's getting embarrassing."

Emily laughed. "I have another ultrasound right before Thanksgiving, and they should be able to tell as long as they're in the right position."

Garcia let go and backed away from Emily just enough so that they could talk properly again. Hotch stayed put, almost looking uncomfortable, like he felt he was listening in on a private conversation. Garcia, sensing this, attempted to include him. "So, what do you want?" she asked him. "Two boys, two girls, one of each?"

"Well, when we thought it was just one, I wanted a boy and she wanted a girl."

"One of each would be nice," Emily said to both of them.

"I think I'll still hope for two boys," Hotch said. "Few things are scarier to me than having a teenage girl in the house. One's enough."

"I vote for two girls, if that counts for anything," Garcia said. "Do you know if they're identical? I guess that would help."

"No way of knowing for sure," Emily said. "Two different amniotic sacs, which usually means fraternal, but that can happen sometime with identical twins, too. Once I get my wish and we find out it's one of each, we'll have our answer to that."

"And how far along are you?"

"About nine weeks, I think. Pretty sure we conceived on our honeymoon. That's what the odds say, anyway. We might have to name one Chevy and the other one Tahoe," Emily cracked, knowing this would elicit an eye roll from Hotch.

"You did _not_," Garcia said forcefully. "You got Hotch to get freaky in a car?"

"Thank you for sharing every little detail," Hotch muttered in good humor. Emily turned back to him and offered a half apologetic smile.

"It was the middle of the night and we were stuck in a crazy rainstorm, so there was no way we'd get caught," Emily clarified. "But, you know, it could have been then, could have been anytime. I think when people ask, though, and if the kids ever ask ,we'll tell them they were conceived in the family car. Much funnier that way."

"Poor children. _So_," Garcia said with curiosity, pushing her glasses up her nose, "have you been trying, or is this just a happy accident times two?"

Emily had planned on leaving that part out, naïve enough to think Garcia wouldn't ask. She feared hurting her friend's feelings, but she found herself unable to tell an outright lie. "We've been trying since a little after the wedding. We thought I was pregnant but I wasn't, and I kind of, I don't know, saw the light, and changed my mind, and decided I wanted to try. And Aaron's wanted to try the entire time, so I didn't have to change his mind."

"We didn't tell anyone we were trying because we didn't want to get anyone's hopes up," Hotch said. "It was my idea," he fibbed, "so if you're angry about being left in the dark, blame me."

Garcia shook her head rapidly, not noticing Emily give Hotch's knee a grateful rub. "No, I completely understand. If Kevin preggoed my eggo I'd be bouncing off the walls, crazy to tell someone, but you never know what could happen. I get it. I'm _so_ glad you changed your mind. This and the engagement and the wedding…you guys are going to kill me this year. I'll be dead by next month. Any other drastic life changes I should know about?"

"Might be in the market for a bigger place," Hotch said. "Five kids sharing a bath and a half might be pushing it."

"Daddy?" Henry whined groggily from the top of the stairs. All three adults froze. "Daddy, I wet the bed."

"Why not 'Mommy'?" Emily wondered aloud, watching Hotch get up and walk upstairs.

"So _this_ is why you kept suggesting we do something other than hit up the bars. I feel like a total idiot," Garcia said, turning to the side to face Emily once they were alone. "When are you due?"

"The end of March, but with twins they said to expect them a few weeks earlier. If I could, I'd hang on to them and give you babies for your birthday, but I don't think that'll happen."

"Honey, early presents are always welcome. Mmm, I still can't believe it," she marveled, pulling Emily close again. "Five kids."

Emily moaned, chuckling behind it. "Please don't say the f-word."

"Oh, my love, you will handle it beautifully, like you do everything. You said you haven't told the little ones yet?"

Emily shook her head. "Like I said, you're the first. I think I'll tell my parents, and Aaron might tell Sean and Jessica. No idea when we'll tell the kids, but maybe we could have you and Rossi, Reid, and Morgan over for dinner one night so we can tell them, too."

"It _has_ been far too long since you hosted everyone."

"No, we won't be hosting everyone. Too much of a headache. I'm exhausted and still throwing up. Besides, it's always insanely cramped when we all eat together. I'd like to do Thanksgiving just to say we did, because we might never have another chance, but other than that, having everyone is just too much of a circus."

"Well, like your hubby said, start looking to upgrade. Give me your criteria and I'll find you a house faster than the fastest real estate agent out there. Wraparound porch? You got it. Newly renovated kitchen? You got it."

"Twenty-by-twenty master bedroom with soundproof walls?"

Garcia giggled like a little girl. "Ooh, all the trying _had_ to be fun."

Emily cocked an eyebrow. "It was amazing at first, but it started to get pretty frustrating. It's nice to be having sex again without wondering whether it's on a good day."

Garcia wiggled her own eyebrows. "Every day's a good day now."

**One Week Later**

"For how much more she loves you compared to me, you'd think she'd be saying 'dada' by now," Emily said to Hotch, who sat on the floor with Charlotte, trying or the umpteenth time to get her to say what he wanted. She knew a dozen other words already, her first several months ago being 'mama,' but she seemed to be teasing Hotch.

"Charlie, who's your dada?" Hotch asked. Just like every other time, Charlotte pointed to Hotch but didn't say a word. "Can you _say_ 'dada'?" She shook her head and got up to walk away.

"She's just messin' with ya," Morgan insisted, sitting down between Emily and Reid and putting an arm around the former. "so, when're you gonna tell us why we're here?" he asked.

"Who said there was a reason besides us wanting to have you over?" Emily said slyly.

"We all know you pull your hair out when you have more than three people over," Morgan answered. "We figured there was a reason. What, did Hotch knock you up?"

Emily and Hotch exchanged startled glances. While Morgan read their silence as a "yes" and pulled Emily in for a bone-crushing congratulatory hug, Hotch went into the kitchen to get Rossi and Garcia, who were refilling their wine glasses. "Can we get everyone in the living room?" Hotch asked, even though he knew that, by now, Rossi was the only one in the dark, save for the boys, who were already up in bed. He and Emily had decided to wait until Emily's pregnancy was more visible to make it easier for the children to understand.

"Of course!" Garcia said, failing at her attempt not to make it seem obvious that she knew exactly what was going on.

"What's up?" Rossi asked, giving Garcia a strange look and following Hotch out of the kitchen.

"Morgan blew it for himself and Reid," Hotch said, wishing he had a place to sit next to Emily. "But, uhh, we had you guys here tonight because we wanted to share some important news. You want to?" he asked Emily.

"You go ahead. I like the way you say it," Emily said.

"We're pregnant." Hotch's neutral face broke into one of sheer ecstasy as congratulations and hugs abounded, even though it was only news to Rossi by now. Emily eventually found her way out of the tangle of arms and to Hotch's open side. He turned from Rossi for a moment to kiss Emily softly and briefly. Though this particular news was weeks old, it still provided plenty of butterflies. However, they weren't done yet.

"So, you gonna name it after me? Derek's a great name."

Emily narrowed her eyes at Morgan. Just like in a rousing criminal interrogation, Emily didn't have to tell Hotch that she had this one. "What if it's a girl?" Emily challenged Morgan.

"Name her Morgan," he said with a cocky shrug of his shoulders.

"What if," Emily said, "we had one of each?"

"Easy, the boy's Derek and the girl's Morgan—hey—"

Rossi cut Morgan off. "Twins?"

Morgan's jaw dropped, amusing Reid to no end. "Twins? But aren't you—"

"Derek Morgan," Garcia reprimanded him. "If you say any word that relates to age, I will murder you in your sleep and let Reid raise Clooney."

"Actually, number one, I know how to raise a dog better than any of you, and number two, Emily's age, not that she looks it," Reid inserted cleverly, "actually worked in her favor for conceiving twins. As fertile women age, they start to produce more eggs because of hormone shifts. So fraternal twins are slightly more common in women around forty than in younger women. _Are_ they fraternal?" Reid asked Hotch and Emily, whose lips were parted in mild shock. It had been a while since they had been around for one of Reid's mini lessons.

"We don't know yet," Hotch said with a shrug. "By the way, can you save the lessons on the human reproductive system for the adults? No more sex ed with our kids, please." Reid raised his hands in apology.

Emily continued for Hotch. "If it's a boy and a girl, then obviously, yes, but if it's two of the same, we won't know with one hundred percent certainty until they're born, and even then, we'd just have to hope they look obviously identical or not."

"But either way, we're happy. And slightly terrified," Hotch added, catching Emily's unappreciative glare. "But definitely happy."

**November 2012**

"Sean's going to be here soon. I think we should tell the kids before he gets here," Emily said, her hand resting habitually on her very pronounced baby bump.

"Yeah, I'm sure he'll want to talk about it. We might as well. Listen, are you sure you want to do Thanksgiving here? Rossi offered up his place, and so did your mom. Even when you're not the one cooking, it's stressful."

Emily shook her head decisively. "By this time next year, we'll have our hands too full to think of hosting without laughing our faces off. I want to do this at least once."

"All right, all right." Hotch put down his grocery list and stood in front of Emily, delighting in the feel of the babies between them before he kissed her a little more deeply than he usually did when they had children walking around. He wasn't afraid to back her up against the counter and add his tongue to the mix.

"Gross," Jack said from behind them.

Emily kept her arms wrapped around Hotch's back and peeked around him. "Hi," she said with a grin. "What's gross?"

"Kissing."

"Ever since he turned seven," Emily mumbled to Hotch. "Kissing isn't gross, Jack. Trust me, in about six or seven years, you won't think so."

"Yeah I will."

"All right, enough out of you," Hotch chided, turning to Jack and bending down slightly. "Can you go get your brother and sister for me?" Once Jack was out of the room, shoulders slumped at being asked to do something, Hotch addressed Emily. "You ready?"

Emily smiled serenely. "Yeah. I'm actually excited for them to know. It'll be nice having people I _know_ asking to touch my belly. You'd be amazed at how many perfect strangers think it's acceptable to just…rub your stomach. It's creepy."

"I'm sure the kids will be all over you, especially once they start kicking. Anything yet?"

"Trust me, you'll know the second it happens." Emily led the way to the couch, using the arm for support to sit down. Her back had been giving her trouble for quite a while now.

Henry was the first to seek out a spot in Emily's lap, his jealousy of Hotch back in full swing ever since Hotch and Emily had found out about the pregnancy and couldn't keep their hands off each other. "I can't fit," he informed her, not for the first time.

"I know. I'm sorry, honey. Why don't you sit between me and Daddy?"

"Uh-uh." Henry moved to the arm of the couch while Charlotte took up residence in Hotch's lap and Jack sat down cross-legged in front of the couch.

"Mommy and I have something to tell you guys," Hotch started.

"You know how my tummy's getting pretty big?" Emily said, that being an understatement. Even her obstetrician had told her she had measured larger in the abdomen than was typical for a mother of twins at this stage of her pregnancy. Hotch had recently started a list of words she wasn't allowed to call herself, the most recently added item being an aircraft carrier.

Jack nodded ardently, apparently more than ready to find out why Emily was "fat," as he'd innocently described her once before getting a talking-to from his father.

"Well," Emily went on, both hands on her bump, "You're going to have two baby brothers in a few months. They're growing inside my belly right now."

Jack's eyes widened. "Two brothers?"

Henry just poked at Emily's belly curiously. "Yup, two," Hotch replied.

"What're their names?" Jack asked.

"We don't know," Emily said. "We haven't decided yet. So, how does that sound? Two new baby brothers?"

"Are they gonna be little like Charlie?" Jack asked.

"Even littler. Remember how little she was when she and Henry and I moved in with you?" Emily asked, getting a nod from Jack. "Well, even tinier than that, because they'll be even younger, and when you have two at a time, they're usually a little smaller, so they'll be _very_ tiny."

"Cool," Jack said, a smile spreading across his face. "Can we see your belly?"

"You can't see the babies through my tummy, but sure." Emily gladly lifted her form-fitted top over her stomach, which already donned some stretch marks with which she had a love-hate relationship. She considered them a rite of passage to some extent, but she was annoyed by them at the same time. "You can touch it if you want."

Emily felt it just as Jack and Henry placed their hands on her, and Hotch was holding Charlotte out so she could do the same. "Aaron Aaron Aaron Aaron," she blurted, grabbing his hand and placing his hand near the top of her belly. "One of them just kicked." As Hotch laughed in astonishment beside her, she pointed to the spot where one of the twins was still kicking. Jack and Henry moved their hands there.

"Whoa!" Jack exclaimed. "Doesn't that hurt?"

"Not at all. I've been waiting for them to kick for me for a long time now. It's almost like they're saying 'hello.' Well, this one, anyway. I'm sure the other one will kick soon enough." Emily was quickly discovering that one of her favorite things about being pregnant so far was explaining things to the children.

"When's Uncle Sean gonna be here?" Jack asked, his attention span cut short. He was on a short break from school for Thanksgiving and his brain had gone on a bit of a vacation, too.

"Unca Sean!" Henry cried, looking up to Emily for an answer.

"Very soon. You can go play if you want," Emily replied, watching Jack and Henry go up to their room to finish whatever it was they had been building together.

Both Hotch and Emily's hands remained in place, even once the baby stopped kicking. Charlotte had lost interest. "Unca Sha?" she asked.

"Soon, honey," Emily said. She got up to go to the bathroom and when she came back, Hotch was gone, presumably putting Charlotte down for her midday nap. Sean arrived while Emily was alone downstairs.

"Geez, look at you," he said jubilantly when she opened up and let him inside.

"Kind of hard to miss the walking billboard," Emily said dryly as she gave him a tight, sincere hug.

"Last time I saw you, no one would've known. Now I can hardly get my arms around you."

Knowing Sean was trying to get a rise out of her, Emily lightly patted him on the cheek. "Thank you. You're just too sweet."

"You know I'm just teasing. You look beautiful. In a you're-having-my-brother's-babies kinda way," he added pointedly when Hotch found them. "Hey, super sperm. That is, unless they're identical, in which case I downgrade you to satisfactory sperm. Didn't you have another ultrasound the other day?"

"Mm-hmm," Emily said, wrapping her arm around Hotch's waist.

"Find out the sex…es?" Sean asked, finally hanging his coat up and toeing his shoes off.

"We should probably try to tell at least one person on our own since the loud mouths know," Hotch said, consulting with Emily. She nodded. "Both boys," Hotch said with a proud smile.

"All right! Not that I had a preference," Sean said directly to Emily. "Congratulations again. Do I hear a stampede?"

"Guess what, Uncle Sean!" Jack shouted on his way down the stairs. "We're gonna have two baby brothers!"

Hotch wore a smug look. "See? What'd I tell you?"

—

"Honey, you're almost as big as I was when I was eight months pregnant with you, and you're what, not even five?" Elizabeth said the next day, seeing Emily for the first time in a couple of weeks.

"Thanks, Mom," Emily said sardonically, offering to take her parents' coats.

"Oh, you look beautiful, sweetheart," her mother reassured her.

"Stunning," her father added. "So? Granddaughters? Grandsons? One of each? Or do we have to wait until dinner's over and everyone's drunk and falling asleep before you'll tell us?"

"Two grandsons," Emily reported. "Two very healthy grandsons and one very big Emily."

"The bigger the belly and the bigger the babies, the better," George insisted. "And I've been carrying thirty pounds on my gut for fifteen years now. You can't tell me I don't know what it feels like."

Emily rolled her eyes, smiling peacefully as her father walked away toward the sound of a football game.

"How have you been feeling?" Elizabeth asked much more empathetically, urging Emily into the empty dining room, away from the noise produced by a loud television and too many guests.

"Eh," Emily said, shrugging. "I always thought pregnant women were beautiful, but I'm having a really hard time seeing myself that way, even though Aaron tries to drill it into my head multiple times a day—"

"As any good husband should."

Emily gave her mother a half smile and let her take a hand. Emily placed her other hand on her stomach and rubbed in slow circles. "Other than that, tired all day. Sore all day. The bathroom trips, oh God, I can't believe it, and it's just going to get worse, and I'm just going to get bigger."

"It'll be worth every second, Em, I promise you that."

"Oh, I know, I know. It already is," Emily said with a sigh that indicated she hadn't been this relaxed all day. She leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. "As little as I'm looking forward to all of the physical aspects getting worse, I love that I'm carrying our babies. There are two little people just…sitting inside of me, depending on me. I thought the other three were needy."

"Did you tell the others yet?"

"Yesterday. Jack seems pretty excited. Henry hardly understands. Charlotte doesn't at all. So I'd say it went pretty well. This year has gone by so fast, Mom. Charlotte's talking up a storm, Henry gets himself dressed, Jack makes his own lunch…it feels like just yesterday that I moved in, thinking Aaron and I were probably doomed to live together without _being_ together, and now we're married and having kids of our own. Pinch me," Emily said when a tear escaped from the corner of each eye. "Sorry," she said, hastily wiping them away. "I cried during a Budweiser commercial yesterday. And of course Aaron told Sean and now I'll never hear the end of it—ooh, give me your hand." Emily placed her mother's palm on her stomach. "One of them started kicking yesterday and the other started this morning. They're having a hoedown in there."

"I can't feel it, sweetheart."

"Here." Emily pulled up her extra thick sweater. "Better?" she asked when she felt her mother's chilly hand on her skin.

"Oh, there we go."

"Hey, Em, Jessica's here," Garcia said, leading Jessica into the dining room.

"Oh, I didn't even hear you knock or anything. I'm sorry," Emily said, sitting upright.

"Aaron told me to stop knocking. Penelope just had good timing, actually."

"Ooh, are we having a feel-the-babies-kick party?" Garcia said, spotting Emily's bare belly.

"Yeah, have at it," Emily said with a tired but contented laugh. "Oh, Jess, you haven't felt yet, have you? Just started yesterday."

"Nope, haven't felt yet, but I'd love to," Jessica said, taking an empty chair and bringing it near Emily. "Oh, wow. I can't imagine how that must feel from your end of things."

"Pretty strange, but in a good way."

"You look tired," Garcia said, placing one hand on Emily's stomach, then combing her fingers through her hair much like she did Henry's or Charlotte's when they fell asleep in her lap. "Do you want to take a nap? Is there anything we can do? Or does Sean the Patron Saint of All Things Edible have everything taken care of?"

"He said he's got it all under control and he can see the TV all right from the kitchen, so he can keep an eye on the game," Emily said, pulling her sweater back down once everyone had removed their hands.

"Then go take a catnap," Elizabeth said, kissing her daughter on the cheek and patting her knee.

"No, you guys just got here."

"We'll be fine. We know everyone well enough to keep ourselves entertained."

"Yeah, go take a nap," Jessica agreed.

"You heard them. The masses have spoken," Garcia said, waiting for the room to clear before she held out a hand. "May I accompany you? Everyone else has been hogging you."

"I know, I'm sorry. I've become far more interesting now that I'm three people. I probably won't be able to sleep with them kicking like this, so we can lie down and chat."

Emily and Garcia sneaked through the living room to the stairs, going unnoticed, as the men's eyes were glued to the television. Sean was with them, taking a break from cooking. The living room looked rather cramped, given that they hosted the same crowd as the previous Thanksgiving but in a much smaller space.

"I hate that I feel out of breath just getting up the stairs," Emily griped, taking a few deep breaths on her way to her bedroom. Garcia lay down on top of the covers with her, facing her with her hands underneath her cheek on the pillow. "I need to stop complaining. I feel like the luckiest person in the world."

"Maybe because you are."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. For every reason I have to complain, I have a dozen more to be thrilled. I mean, yeah, my ankles are fat, but my boobs are getting huge, which I love and Aaron loves even more. So in the grand scheme of things, pregnancy isn't all that bad. Not right now, anyway. When I start peeing every time I laugh, cough, or sneeze, I might have to reassess."

**A/N: Please review!  
**


	107. Sexual Frustration, Cake, and Knitting

**January 2013**

"Promise me you'll stick by the rules. I know bed rest isn't much fun. Haley was on bed rest with Jack, so I know the boredom's a killer, but keep your eye on the prize," Hotch said from behind the dresser in his and Emily's bedroom. He was setting up a newly purchased television. She lay in bed on her side, looking miserable.

"Trust me, if it were only my own health I was worried about, I'd be ignoring the doctor's orders and going to work. But it's not only about me, so I'll do what I'm told."

"Good. How are you feeling?"

"Fine. They call blood pressure the silent killer, don't they? You never knew yours was high until you went in for allergy medication."

"I do hate that you're not able to be up and about like you were, but I must admit I find it kind of funny that it's because of your blood pressure."

"Hey," Emily said, pointing a finger at him, "the doctor said mine's induced by pregnancy and it should go back to normal afterward. I am way healthier than you are."

"Says the one with the incompetent cervix."

"If you had a cervix, I'm sure yours would be defective, too," Emily snapped, groaning when Hotch stepped out from behind the dresser, holding his arms out to frame the new television. "How much did you pay for that again?"

"It was on sale. If you want to know that badly, you can check the account, but I don't want you to worry about it. I know you think you'll be happy reading a book a day, but trust me, you'll need some variety if you want to make it to the end of February."

"If I have to take leave from work and lie in bed all day unable to do anything to take care of my family or my house, then I'm going all out. March first, at least."

"That seems rather arbitrary," Hotch said.

"Well, I figure that way we can have the babies by our wedding anniversary and I'll be coherent enough to celebrate with you, even if it's over a crappy hospital meal, but we won't be having them _too_ early to the point where their health would be at risk."

"What would be so bad about celebrating our anniversary while you're on bed rest?" Hotch asked, hitting the lights, grabbing the remote control, and getting into bed behind Emily.

"Because I doubt I'll make it that far, and we aren't allowed to have sex, and it's bad enough when you do sweet things like go out and buy a TV and a ton of books and magazines and tell me I'm beautiful when my skin is all oily and my hair's all stringy and I'm a cow, and then I can't jump your bones like you make me want to do. I would love to make love on our anniversary, but unless we have the babies earlier than that and we're already home, which isn't optimal because we obviously want to keep them cooking for as long as possible, then I'm off limits, and I just hate that."

"Okay," Hotch said with a sigh, draping his arm over Emily's belly, roughly seven months along, "I love you, but you sound a little…hormonal. What you're saying hardly makes any sense. We lived together for almost a year with almost no sexual activity. Do you really think a couple of months is going to kill me? By the way, you're delusional if you think we'll be doing anything as soon as you get home. You'll be sore and tired no matter how you deliver, and neither of us will be getting any sleep. So it's probably going to be quite a while before we even have the brainpower to think seriously about sex."

"Wow, you're making it sound so much better," Emily said, patting Hotch's hand.

"All I'm saying is I'm prepared to go without. It's worth it."

"I'm not saying it's not worth it. I'm just horny as hell and I'm sure most of it's from being told I'm not allowed to fool around. I mean, come on, I can't have any orgasms? At least _you_ can masturbate. Garcia got me a perfectly good vibrator ages ago and I never did get around to using it, and now I'll be home all day and it'll just be…_calling __my __name__…_"

"How about this? I'll remain perfectly celibate, too."

Emily craned her neck back, but Hotch's head was perfectly behind hers, and she didn't feel like rolling all the way onto her back. "You'd do that?"

"Of course."

"That's incredibly sweet, but I don't want you to do that. You'll be far more stressed than I will be, with a household to run by yourself. You take those extra long showers as often as you want. And, you know, I can…you know…without exerting myself too much. My mouth isn't on bed rest."

Emily's cavalier manner struck Hotch by surprise, though it shouldn't have. "As enticing as that offer is, it wouldn't feel right, not when you're feeling so deprived yourself. Plus, we probably shouldn't let things get nearly that heated. I don't trust you."

"Yeah, you're right. I don't trust me, either," Emily said darkly. "I do have one very reasonable request, though. I promise it follows doctor's orders."

"What's that?" Hotch asked, scooting closer and reaching further around Emily's belly.

"Think of me while you're in the shower. Especially my big boobs, because I don't know if I'll get to keep them. My mom said hers got bigger while she was pregnant but they shriveled right up once she weaned me."

"Okay, I'll fantasize about you as you are now, not that I needed instructions to do so, but I have one request in return," Hotch said.

"Anything."

"Don't talk about…your mom in bed. Period."

Emily laughed. "I'm sorry. At least I'm not trying to turn you on, right? You know, this is going to be where I spend all my time except for going to the bathroom and showering and my one allotted daily trip downstairs that I'm pretty sure you won't even let me take because you're meaner than my OB. I need to be able to talk things, so I'm going to talk about them in bed. Unless you're going to come chat with me while I pee."

"I'll probably need to help you in the shower anyway. We could chat in there."

"I'm pretty sure I can still bathe myself. I think you just want an excuse to get in the shower with me," she said wickedly, reaching behind her and giving Hotch's thigh a squeeze.

Hotch chuckled. "Whatever you say."

"Oh, back to my mom. She said she's going to come by and visit tomorrow."

"Good. Jess said she'll try and drop by every day, too. And she said to call her if you need anything at all while you're alone. Don't be afraid to ask for help, okay? I worry about that. If someone's over and they ask if there's anything they can do to help out, be honest."

"I'll try not to let my pride get the best of me," Emily said.

"Good. You're doing such a good job, you know. You can't help the blood pressure or the weak cervix. They're just…things that happen. You've been taking really good care of yourself and the babies and you haven't complained very much about the bed rest. Keep it up, okay?"

Emily nodded, moaning contentedly. "Hey, the TV isn't for watching when we're together," she whined when Hotch turned it on.

"What, so only you're allowed to watch it? Besides, you're on my side of the bed now. I deserve at least one infomercial for that."

"Watch what you want. I'm about ready to pass out."

Hotch placed a kiss in Emily's hair, not remembering the last time he had felt so at peace. Emily had been stressed with dealing with her changing body, work, and three needy children, and being told that she had to put on the brakes had not calmed her at all. But the bed rest ruling made the imminence of two children of their very own much more salient, at least to Hotch. "You know, I know it's pretty obvious that we're having children together, and we've talked about it for God knows how many hours but it's nice to slow down and really stop and think about it. We're going to be parents together."

"Yeah," Emily said, her voice distant, but not in a way that worried Hotch. "Remember not even two years ago when we were worried about whether we could raise three together?"

"I don't think our biggest worry was ever whether we were capable of being good parents. I think it was always whether we could push aside our issues with each other."

"Well, no matter which way you slice it, we've come a pretty long way from there." Emily found Hotch's hand and guided it to where one of the babies was kicking. "We're having babies together. Not just _a_ baby, but _two_."

"That's the point I was trying to make."

"Sorry," Emily said, laughing. "It bears repeating, though, right? Two little boys are probably going to end up with my awful nose and your humungous hands. That just amazes me."

The thought of two boys running around the back yard, each of them resembling him in some ways, Emily in others, stung Hotch's eyes with tears he didn't bother holding back. "I wish you wouldn't do that," he said, not masking his crying.

Emily rolled over, immediately reaching for a cheek to wipe dry. "You wish I wouldn't do what?"

"Make fun of your nose," Hotch said with a smirk. "I love your nose."

—

"This is my final offer. You shower now or not at all," Hotch said, addressing Emily as if she were a small child. He couldn't help but worry, though, that she would convince herself she was up for more than her body could handle. "I'm here to help you now, but once I'm gone, I'd really you rather not be in the shower unless someone's around to help you. And I'm pretty sure you don't know anyone who you want to hop in the shower with you."

"I told you, I don't feel up for it right now. Maybe tonight, after lying here all day…I'll probably want a shower more than anything. But I promise not to try unless someone's hear to come get me if I slip. Because, you know, suddenly a weak cervix means I've lost my balance." Emily watched with more than a little longing as Hotch ignored her sarcasm and walked into their closet in his boxers and an undershirt. "We really don't have to outsource getting the kids to daycare and school, you know," Emily added. Jessica had volunteered to help with breakfast and transport the children in the mornings so that Emily's being unable to perform her normal duties wouldn't affect the morning household routine. She had just left with all three children.

"She said she's more than happy to help. She's family, and families do that sort of thing."

"All right," Emily said skeptically. "But the second she starts to seem like she's getting sick of it, we need to figure something else out. Hey, can I pick your clothes out for the day?"

"Whatever makes you happy. What color suit?"

"Navy."

"Shirt?"

"Pink."

"Emily…"

"Please? With that navy blue tie with the pink polka dots?"

"A pink polo out golfing is one thing. And to be honest, I got enough crap from Dave that I'll probably never wear that again, either. I'm not wearing pink to work."

"Then why didn't you exchange the shirt if you're never going to wear it? Garcia gave you a gift receipt."

"Because I didn't want to offend her. I'll wear it the next time I see her at an event that calls for a suit and tie. I promise. Next choice?"

"White shirt, red tie with that weird white pattern, and a grey suit."

"That I can do."

"Ooh, goodie. Come walk for me when you're done," Emily said with a giddy voice not unlike Garcia's lately any time the twins were mentioned.

Hotch came out fully dressed a few minutes later, tightening his tie. He crouched down next to Emily and planted a kiss on her lips. "Jack should be off the bus at about four. Amy from down the street will walk him home. He's really excited to help."

"I know he is. It'll be nice to have him as a helper. He and I don't get the quality time we used to."

"I was thinking the same. All right, I need to get going. Do you have everything you need? Books, magazines, remote control, extra blankets, fully charged phone…snacks, crossword puzzles, bottled water, juice…" Hotch looked around him. Emily looked ready for a nuclear holocaust.

"I think I'm all set. Thank you." Emily pulled Hotch in by the arm for one more goodbye kiss. He then scooted down to her belly, which he exposed for a moment.

"You be nice," he said, pointing at her navel. "No punching of the bladder. Got it? Good."

"Okay, go, before I record you," Emily threatened.

"You're not being very nice to the man who went out and bought you a bunch of women's magazines."

"You're right, I'm not. I love when you talk to the babies. I'm just incapable of expressing myself without making jokes at others' expenses. Sorry." She shrugged, her eyes twinkling, and gestured toward the door.

"Jess said she'll try to come by around lunchtime. If you need anything when she's not here, call her, and if it's an emergency, call me, too."

Emily nodded. "We've been through this a hundred times. I'm pretty sure I'm going to fall back asleep as soon as you leave. Does she have a key and the alarm code?"

"Yes. I told you yesterday."

"All right. Okay, okay, off you go. Go bring home the bacon, which actually sounds kind of good right now."

"Want me to make you some?" Hotch asked, checking his watch.

"Go!"

—

When four o'clock rolled around, Emily was just waking up from her third nap, all of them having been out of sheer boredom. She had downplayed how desperate she was for company when Jessica checked in on her, knowing that Jessica was already taking time out of her day to care for her, and that she probably had better things to do.

When Emily heard the front door open and heard the alarm sound for a few seconds, followed by the sweet sound of Jack's voice, she forgot about her limitations and almost sprang out of bed. She called a thanks to their neighbor, who she hoped wouldn't come up to say hello, as Emily had kept her promise to Hotch and hadn't showered. Jack was up the stairs as fast as his legs would carry him. She sat at the edge of the bed, holding her arms out. "Hello there. Guess how happy I am to see you," she cooed, as if talking to Henry or Charlotte instead.

Jack flashed a grin with a few missing teeth. "Daddy said I get to help you!"

"You do! You know what I need right now?"

Jack wriggled free of his backpack and tossed it on the floor. "What?" he asked dutifully.

"I need you to come up here, snuggle with me for a bit, and tell me about your day." Emily put her feet back on the bed, sitting up against the headboard, and patted the space beside her. "Think you can do that?"

**One Week Later**

"You sure you're not still hungry?" Jessica asked Emily, taking a seat in a spare chair that sat beside the bed for that purpose. Emily had used her stomach as a relatively stable shelf for some leftovers from the previous night's dinner, which the entire family had eaten up in the bedroom. Her plate was practically licked clean.

"I think I'm good. I probably ate too fast, so I'll feel full in a few minutes. Thanks so much again for coming every day. You really don't have to, and the fact that you do it anyway makes you a saint."

Jessica smiled. "Don't mention it."

"Surprise!" they both heard from downstairs.

"What on earth is Garcia doing here?" Emily asked, as if Jessica knew. "It's the middle of a Thursday."

"Are you up there?" Garcia called.

Emily shouted back an affirmative, exchanging a bemused glance with Jessica when she heard Garcia rifling through the drawers in the kitchen.

"Hey," Emily said excitedly, reaching her arms out for a hug when Garcia finally showed her face up in the bedroom.

"I took a long lunch, a _really_ long one," Garcia said, holding up a paper bag. "Hi, Jessica," she added, with a short wave.

"What's in there?" Emily asked.

"How does red velvet cake sound? I saw your car, Jessica, and no worries, I got an extra huge piece and I grabbed three forks."

Emily set her plate aside and smoothed circles over her stomach. "I might regret this later, but I don't think I can say no to red velvet cake."

"I know you can't. Who can? It's got really good frosting, too. Ready for a food-gasm?" Garcia asked, sitting at the edge of the bed.

"Doctor said I can't have orgasms but he didn't say anything about food-gasms. Penelope Garcia, if I was not already so damn pregnant, I would be offering to have your babies," Emily said, rubbing her hands together when Garcia pulled out a plastic container encasing the largest piece of cake Emily had ever seen.

"_What_?" Garcia asked, stopping the cake in midair. "You can't have orgasms? I mean, it makes sense that you should avoid…strenuous activity…and…poking…but there's plenty of ways to get some without penetration or overexertion. I'm sure Hotch knows, right?"

"PG, keep it PG. There's family in the room," Emily said, giving Jessica an apologetic look. "And the no-orgasms rule is to keep my uterus from contracting and sending me into early labor."

"Oh, that is _so_ not fair," Garcia lamented, joining hands with Emily on top of her stomach. "I'm so sorry. Time for cake."

Emily moaned with the first bite, cupping her hands underneath her fork to catch any crumbs. "Oh my God, this is the best cake I've ever had."

"It is delicious," Jessica agreed. "I have to take off, but thanks for the cake."

"Oh," Emily said, handing the container off to Garcia, "thank you again for coming. I appreciate it so much. It's so nice to have company."

"Like I said, don't mention it." Jessica obliged Emily in a hug and waved on her way out.

"Did I scare her away?" Garcia asked, whispering.

"No, I think the novelty of the lunchtime visits has just worn off for her. I can understand why. All I do is complain." Emily shoveled another forkful of cake into her mouth, promising herself that it was the last one. "Crap. Crumbs in my cleavage."

Garcia snickered, taking Emily's fork for a moment and watching her dig down her shirt for the stray food.

"Oh, I've lost funnier things down there," Emily said. "Happens when you never eat sitting straight up and your boobs hardly stay in your top to begin with."

"Yeah, look at you," Garcia said playfully. "Bet the hubby—yes, I said hubby, and you'll never stop me— likes that part, no?"

"Can I be frank?" Emily asked, taking in a deep gulp of air right afterward. Garcia nodded eagerly. "I have never felt so sexually frustrated. Okay, maybe when Aaron and I didn't know what was going on, that did bite the big one, too. But then at least I was still on at least a three- or four-year dry spell, and I had never been with _him_, so I had no idea what I was missing out on. Okay, you know what, I need to stop complaining." She placed her hands on either side of her belly, as if to cover the twins' ears. "Sorry, boys. I love you and I would go the rest of my life without orgasms if you needed me to. But please, don't take me up on that."

"You're going crazy," Garcia commented.

"I know." Emily bumped her head back against the headboard. "Let's talk about something else."

"Baby names!" Garcia squeaked. "Have you narrowed down the list at all?"

Emily shook her head. "That's a work in progress. Our goal is for each of us to cross two names off our personal lists per week. That should get us there."

"Any teasers?"

"Sorry," Emily said with a sly grin. "I'll let you know when I'm down to three, how about that? I have a feeling you'll be adding names rather than subtracting."

"You know me all too well."

"We could talk about Charlotte's birthday party. Or just marvel over the fact that she's turning two. She's turning _two_, Garcia. And she's talking, and her hair's getting curly and it's starting to grow out a little—"

"Here," Garcia said, proffering the tissue box that had sat at the ready on the nightstand. "You're leaking."

Emily chuckled at herself and dabbed at her eyes. "At least I didn't cry about the no-sex thing, right?"

**February 2013**

"Knitting?" Emily asked her mother, who handed her two knitting needles and a skein of yarn.

"If I can remember how myself," Elizabeth said, sitting on top of the bed next to her daughter and resting a hand on her stomach without asking.

"They're napping, I think," Emily said. "One of them had the hiccups earlier. You just missed it."

"As amazing as it is to hold your child—or children, in this case—in your arms for the first time, you're going to miss being pregnant. You won't miss the thirty daily trips to the bathroom or the aches and pains, but you'll miss this."

A contented smile crossed Emily's lips as she nodded. "I don't doubt that. But I can't wait to see them, find out if they're identical, hold them, play with their little fingers and toes, pick out which facial features came from me versus Aaron…I can't believe I'm going to be a mother. A mom is one thing, but, well, you know. _I_ was a baby once upon a time. A baby without a big mouth."

"Honey, you always made yourself heard. Okay, ready to make some caps? They should be pretty easy, and I brought a book with me just in case we can't figure it out."

—

"This came in the mail," Hotch said to Emily a few nights later, handing her a cardboard box. "Sean called me and said it's your baby shower gift."

"I didn't have a shower," Emily said, furrowing her brow and tearing the strip on the side of the box.

"I think that's the idea behind the gift, and you know Garcia still hasn't let that go. Even if you have clothes left from older kids, twins do warrant a shower."

Emily shrugged. "Yeah, well…she spent at least an entire paycheck on baby clothes anyway. She didn't need a shower as an excuse. Oh my God," Emily said, not sure what to make of what she saw in the box.

"What?" Hotch asked, sitting on the edge of the bed as he loosened his tie.

Emily held up a tiny leather jacket. "Guess he's trying to get to them early," she said with a giggle. "Little biker babies. That is so him. And look, he thought to buy six to nine months, so they'll be the right size come next winter."

Hotch rolled his eyes. "Only Sean. Want to eat dinner up here again?"

"Unless you're going to let me do the stairs. _Kidding_," Emily said when Hotch opened his mouth to protest. She had had her stairs privileges revoked after her last checkup. "Yes, dinner in here every night from now until whenever I can do stairs again. I miss you guys like crazy, even though I see you just as much."

"We miss you, too."

"As the kids sit downstairs and play video games," Emily said with a raised eyebrow. As if trying it on for size, she laid one of the miniature jackets over her belly.

"That's because I said we're watching a movie up here tonight, so no video games later on. They're getting their time in while they can." Hotch slid his tie off and undid the top two buttons on his shirt. "So, how was today?"

"Same as every other," Emily said with a shrug. She couldn't pretend to be excited about lying in bed all day, but she could mask her distaste for it to some extent. "Pee, sleep, pee, sleep, eat, pee, sleep…"

Hotch's eyes squinted in a grin. "Lie on your back," he said, glancing over his shoulder.

"I've been lying down all day," Emily said, ready to put up a good fight.

"I was going to offer you a foot rub, but—" Hotch stopped and chuckled when Emily immediately scooted down to lie on her back.

"Look at you," Emily said as Hotch took one of her bare feet in his hands, "not even out of your work clothes yet and already spoiling me."

"Just because you're not active doesn't mean you're not being productive. You deserve a foot rub more than anyone I know."

Emily laughed quietly. "Okay, I'm sorry, but I need to sit up. Being on my back is uncomfortable and I'd like to be able to see your face if we're going to talk. All I can see right now is a mountain."

**March 2013**

"Admit it, I'm the best bed rest visitor there is," Sean said, leaning into a turn he took on a video game. Two weeks ago, Emily had given in to the boredom and had asked Hotch to hook the system up in the bedroom. Sean was in town for a week, anticipating the arrival of the twins. Emily was scheduled to be induced the next day due to her blood pressure, which had stabilized over the last two months but was beginning to climb again. Hotch was at a parent-teacher conference at Jack's school, and the children sat on either side of Emily.

"You're definitely somewhere in the top ten," Emily quipped.

"So what's it been like, not having to do anything all day?" Sean asked.

"Oh, I stopped looking at it that way before I even started. It's more like I _can__'__t_ do anything. It's all I can do to get your brother to let me fold laundry."

"What do you do to pass the time?"

"I just lapped you."

"I'm letting you win. You can't beat a pregnant lady in any sort of contest. Write that one down, Jack, Henry. Anyway, like I asked, how do you pass the time?"

"I dunno. I read, to myself and to the babies, I sleep, watch TV… Garcia visited me as often as she could, usually with more baby clothes she just happened to _run__ across._And my mom came over whenever she could and taught me how to knit. Well, she tried, anyway." Emily paused the game, opened her nightstand drawer, and pulled out a sorry looking blue knit baby cap. A slightly less sorry looking one, made by her mother, was still tucked in the drawer.

"That's not too bad," Sean said, not hiding his smile nearly well enough.

"Yeah, well, luckily I have friends and family whose new favorite hobby is to buy two of everything they find, so I don't consider the hat thing too big a deal. I can't wait to put them in those little leather jackets."

"Mommy?"

Emily turned to her left. "Yes?" she said to Jack.

"Can it be my turn now?"

"Sure, Mommy's gotta lie down anyway," Emily said, handing Jack the controller. The children, knowing the drill, got down from the bed to give Emily room to maneuver herself into a lying position. Lying on her back was out of the question now and had been for a long time, so she positioned herself on her side so she could see the television. "Thanks again for coming to help out," she said to Sean. "We're going to need every bit we can, I think."

He smiled from the spare chair, ruffling Jack's hair and starting up the game again. "No thanks necessary. I'll take any excuse I can get for a week off of work to hang out with the shorties. Adding two new nephews to the mix is a pretty good excuse. You nervous?"

"Oh, don't even get me started," Emily said with a rather shallow sigh. She'd been getting winded rather easily from the combination of her mandated lethargy and two very large, healthy baby boys taking up so much room. "There's no way I'm going to be able to sleep tonight."

"Somehow I doubt that."

"Mommy, when will we get to see the babies?" Henry asked quite clearly for his age. He sat next to her on the bed and flopped over onto her chest.

"We're not sure, honey. They're supposed to be born tomorrow, but we won't know when you guys can see them until the time comes, okay? That depends on a lot of things."

"Can we watch them be born?"

Emily shared a secret laugh with Sean and pinched Henry's nose, eliciting a satisfied smile from the latter. "You can't be there for that part. It'll take a long time and—" Emily stopped mid-sentence and closed her eyes.

"What?" Sean asked immediately, his urgent tone hinting to Jack that something was amiss.

"What's wrong, Mommy?" Jack inquired.

Emily clutched at her belly, wincing. "I think that's a contraction," she said with somewhat of a struggle. "I'm not sure, though."

"Ahh, sh—I'm not trained for this," Sean mumbled. "How long do is it supposed to last?"

"First time mom here," Emily snapped, "how would I know? A book can only tell you so much. There," she said, letting out a whoosh of air after a few more seconds. "Done."

"Think we need to call Aaron? Sorry, stupid question. All right…" Sean patted his pants pockets in search of his phone.

"Mommy, what's a contraption?" Jack asked.

Emily let out a deep belly laugh and held a hand out for him. "It's a contraction with a _c_. It means I'm probably ready to have the babies. How does that sound?"

"Does it hurt?"

"It's not too bad. It was more of a surprise than anything else. I'm fine, though, okay? Perfectly fine."

"Okay," Jack said, not without skepticism. "Do we still get to have Auntie Jessie stay with us here even though it's a day early?"

Emily found herself smiling through the residual pain. "You bet. Sean, you really don't have to come, you know. It's probably going to be a while unless they do a cesarean."

"I wanna be there. These are my nephews we're talking about," Sean said, walking the length of the room with his phone to his ear. "I mean, I don't think I need to be in there for the actual birth, but I'd like to be in the building. Ah, finally, he picks up. Aaron, I think it's time. Here, talk to your wife."

"Did he just say it's time?" Hotch asked in a well-disguised panic once Emily greeted him.

"Well, I think I had a contraction. I should wait and see if I have one or two more before I head in, but I think this is it, and even if it's not, they'll probably induce me anyway since I'll be there. I don't know. Just get home, okay?"

Hotch already sounded out of breath. "I'm already on my way."

"Okay, you don't need to _run_."

"Don't worry about me. How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm about to pop."

"How about emotionally?"

"We can talk when you get here. Just drive."

"I can drive and listen," Hotch insisted. "Talk to me." The smile in his voice was clear.

"Well, thirty-eight weeks is pretty good. And yeah, we spent our first anniversary in bed eating ice cream and watching Seinfeld reruns," Emily said, feeling somewhat self-conscious about having a private conversation in front of Sean and the children, even if it was completely innocent. "But this is when they wanted to make an entrance, so I'm great. I'm excited."

"Not nervous?"

Emily let out a dry laugh. "I never said I wasn't nervous. Maybe sixty-forty."

"Sixty what, forty what?"

"I'll have to get back to you on that."

**A/N: Reviews are love! Time to make yourself heard if you haven't before. Thank you! :D  
**


	108. Seven

**A/N: Special thanks my three betas, allthatisevil, SussiRay, and sarramaks. Especially to allthatisevil and SussiRay for betaing this chapter! And of course, thanks for all the love so far from you, readers. Enjoy the final installment.**

"I'm here I'm here I'm here!" Garcia shouted in one breath, almost passing right by Emily's hospital room in heels only she herself would wear. "Oh my gosh!" she gasped when she saw the sight before her. Her best friend lay back in a hospital bed, hands upon her belly. "It's all so real now…"

Emily laughed softly, rolling her head back on her pillows to look up at Hotch, who stood to greet their friend.

"How are you feeling?" Garcia asked Emily, hardly paying Hotch any attention for the time being.

"Like I'm about to push two bowling balls out—"

"Silly question," Garcia said, smiling as she took Hotch's chair. He said nothing about her taking his seat, instead leaving the room to find more ice chips. "So the boys are in the right position to come out the hard way?"

Emily nodded. "They said I could have a cesarean if I wanted, but there's really no reason, and that would involve a longer recovery and I'm so sick of our bed I could cry."

"Understandable. _So_..." Garcia reached on top of Emily's stomach and squeezed both her hands, which had rested there, feeling one of the babies kicking. "How does it feel? I mean, besides so painful that you want to kill Hotch for making that deposit nine months ago?"

"Ha. Actually, it's not too bad. Yet, anyway."

"Good, I'm glad you're comfortable. But seriously…you're about to become a mother. How does _that_ feel?"

Emily's chin fell to her chest, then she rolled her head back again into the pillows. "I can't even put it into words."

"I know, right? I'm right there with you, except for, you know, being pregnant. The auntie thing feels similar though I'm sure not nearly as amazing. By the way, I totally almost ran a small child over in a pedestrian crosswalk on the way here. He'll be okay, but he's probably a little shaken."

"Garcia, I love you. I can't say it enough. Excuse me while I try not to flash you." Emily pulled her sheet and blanket back, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. "God, sitting feels _so_ good."

"Then why were you lying down, silly?"

Emily heard Hotch's footsteps come down the otherwise quiet hallway. "Him," she replied, holding onto Garcia's arm.

"Come on, Em, lie down and relax," Hotch said.

Emily glared at him. "I've been lying down for the better part of two months," she snapped. "Sitting feels good right now, and it's speeding things along. So I'm going to sit."

"Oh, this is _so_ not how I imagined it would be," Garcia murmured, staring straight ahead at the wall. "Awkward City…"

"Eh, we're fine," Emily said. "I'm just giving him as hard a time as I can. I'm pre-gaming for the ultimate revenge, when I push these babies out and squeeze his hands until I hear bones crack."

"This is why I wanted you to get an epidural," Hotch said, holding out the cup of ice chips he'd gotten for Emily.

"If I can do this without the drugs, why not? I want to." No sooner had the words come out of Emily's mouth than she clenched her eyes shut and gritted her teeth. Without consideration for Garcia's personal space, Hotch immediately placed himself between her and Emily, stealing away the latter's hands.

"I'm right here, it's all right." Hotch repeated his gentle reassurances until the contraction was over. "You can't keep holding your breath like that," he chided.

"I can't help it," Emily said, panting.

"Hotch, I think you just ruined me for all men, boyfriend of five years included." Garcia stood up and offered him his chair back. "You are too incredibly sweet. I don't feel like I can stay."

"No, no, stay. I mean, if you want to," Emily said. "You're welcome to. But if you're uncomfortable—"

"Not with the whole sweating, screaming, cursing, and legs-spread-open thing. That I can handle," Garcia clarified. "Just with the whole…well, you guys are going to be mommy and daddy together soon. Biologically speaking, if my memory serves me correctly I had absolutely nothing to do with that."

"Well, you did in just about every other way," Emily pointed out.

"Garcia, we'd love for you to stay," Hotch said with finality.

"What about everyone else?"

"Sean's been in and out," Emily said. "Jessica's at home with the kids, and my parents are on the way. Where's the rest of the team?" she asked both Hotch and Garcia.

"Reid got here the same time I did," Garcia said. "The rest are on their way."

"Oh, good," Emily said more to Hotch than to Garcia. "You want to now, before everyone else gets here?" she asked him in a hushed tone.

"Want to what?" Garcia asked.

"I'll go get him," Hotch said, leaving.

"What's going on?" Garcia continued.

"Hold your horses. You'll find out."

"I can't wait to see the look on Reid's face when he comes in here and can totally see up your hospital gown."

Emily swore, immediately pushing her knees together, as comfortable as it was to have them apart, and pulled the hem of her gown down.

"I was _kidding_. Anyway, it's Reid, so it'll still be awkward because the big girls aren't in a bra and—"

"Okay, if you don't stop," Emily said, laughing a bit, "then you don't get to be the first non-blood-related baby holder."

"Consider my mouth shut."

"Don't worry about humiliating Reid, anyway—I've got that covered," Emily said under her breath.

"Hi, Emily," Reid said as he followed Hotch into the room. Emily's female obstetrician came in right behind them.

"Hey," Emily said to Reid with a giant smile, glancing knowingly up at Hotch.

"All right, hon, let's check your cervix," the doctor said.

"Oh, uh, I can come back," Reid stammered.

Emily grinned wickedly. "No, no, I want you to stay, it's good to see you," she said as Hotch helped her back up into the bed and onto her back. "Can you please explain exactly what it is you're doing down there again? It's so fascinating," Emily said to her doctor.

"Of course. Right now, I'm using my fingers to check how dilated you are," the doctor said, lifting the sheet up, prompting Reid to back up against the wall behind Emily's bed, putting Emily's bottom end as far out of view as he could. "Two fingers with a little wiggle room, so you're about five centimeters."

"Hey, umm, while you're down there, you know, while we're on the topic of my reproductive system…how long will it be before Aaron and I can have sex again?"

"Well, that depends on how delivery goes. Tearing isn't uncommon, which would extend your bout of celibacy," the doctor said from behind the sheet. "Speaking of which, did you keep that up?"

Emily memorized the look on Reid's face, almost unable to hold in her laughter any longer. "Well, mostly," she said.

Garcia jumped in on the game. "You said you _did_ go down on Super Hubby that one time he came home with a dozen roses, right?"

"Okay, enough," Hotch said, thinking the planned bit had been funny, but that Emily and Garcia had taken things a little too far. Not only did he not need to know that Garcia knew that little detail, but the rest of the world didn't need to know either, and he felt that Reid had been punished more than enough. "In case you're wondering, that was for you telling Jack where babies come from. Let that be a lesson to you not to talk birds and bees with other people's kids."

"Payback's a bitch, isn't it?" Emily said, grinning at Reid's pale face.

"Things are looking good," the doctor said, reminding everyone of her presence. "Lively bunch you've got here."

"Did you actually go _ask_ her to come in and check me right now?" Emily asked Hotch in wonderment once the doctor was gone. "That was a good idea. I didn't know we were doing _that_ now. I thought we were doing the other thing."

"No, that was just good timing," Hotch said. "All right, now that Reid is thoroughly embarrassed, should we tell him and Garcia why they're really here?"

Emily cleared her throat and went for it. "We wanted to ask you this before the babies come just because we didn't know how hectic things would be right after. Anyway, Aaron and I were wondering if you two would be godparents to one of the boys. Jessica and Sean are taking the other."

"Are you serious?" Garcia whispered; Reid just looked at her with an uncomfortable grin on his face. "I mean, I knew if you were going to give the twins separate godparents, I was in easily, but I was worried you'd have one set of godparents for both of them and it would be family only, so it would be Sean and Jessica—I need to stop talking. _Yes_, I would be _honored_."

"Reid?" Emily asked, holding out a hand. He warmed up to her, taking her hand. "You guys both did what was best for Henry, even though you didn't have to. I think it kind of brings things full circle, you know? And we're not asking you two just because it sounds nice. You did perfectly with Henry. We really trust you."

Reid laughed softly, looking around at his friends in disbelief. "You didn't need to sell it to me. What, did you think I was going to say no?"

"I think Garcia's comment about the…roses…might've hurt our chances a little," Emily admitted with a twinkling eye.

"Maybe a little. But luckily I'm a good sport."

—

"Jessica's on her way," Sean informed Hotch as the medical staff prepared for delivery in the wee hours of the morning. Emily's mother sat at the edge of the bed, repeatedly combing Emily's dampening hair away from her face as Emily came off of her most recent contraction.

"What?" Hotch said. "It's four in the morning. What's—"

"When I went back to pick up the receiving blankets that you said _forty_ _times_ that you packed, Jessica seemed kinda bummed that we were all here and she wasn't, so I called your babysitter."

"Our eighteen-year-old babysitter answered her phone at four in the morning?"

"It sounded like she hadn't even gone to sleep yet, actually. And I told her it paid twenty bucks an hour. She's yours as long as you need her, and it's on me," Sean said, shoving his hands in his pants pockets.

"That's so sweet," Emily said, wiping a bit of sweat from her brow. "I feel like such a schmuck for even accepting Jessica's offer. I thought she didn't want to be here and was looking for a way out of it, so I jumped at the chance to keep her from feeling uncomfortable. What did she say? Did you guys talk? You know, she's not much older than you…have you ever—"

"Hey, I know the godparent-matchmaking thing worked out that way for you guys, but I'd like to stick with godparent, if that's okay," Sean said. "Besides, family trees are supposed to branch out, not in."

"God, Sean, I was teasing. I'm hysterical right now, and not necessarily in a good way. How are you single, though, seriously?" Emily inquired dreamily.

"I dunno," Sean said, scratching his head, "My family lives a few hours away from me and every time I turn around, there's a holiday, or a birthday party, or a wedding, or in this case some kids popping out…I'm not really home a whole lot anymore outside of work. Which I love," he said hastily, holding up both hands.

Emily pouted. "We do kind of hog you, don't we?"

"It's all good. Hey, um, do you think it's okay if I change my mind about being in here for the delivery? Would that be too weird?" Sean asked Hotch more than he asked Emily.

"That wouldn't be weird at all. I would love that," Emily answered.

Hotch gave his brother a look. "You sure?"

"What? They're my nephews. And it's not like I'm gonna go, you know, look. I'll stay back here till they're out."

Hotch just gave his brother a look of amusement mixed with gratitude.

"Only two people in the delivery room with you," a nurse said apologetically to Emily, whose smile melted.

"What? Please, can you make an exception?" she pleaded, tears rushing to her eyes right away.

"We won't move a muscle, we swear," Garcia said, grabbing Sean by the arm and pulling him flat against the wall with her.

"Sorry, two is our absolute maximum. No more."

Emily squeezed her mother's hand and looked longingly at Sean and Garcia. "I'm sorry, guys."

"Oh, please, a U.S. Ambassador and soon-to-be grandma trumps all, we understand," Garcia said, obviously disappointed but not angry for not being given priority. "As long as I can wait out in the hallway and hold one as soon as humanly possible."

"Of course." Emily hugged Garcia and only let go when another contraction came. Hotch reclaimed his position by her, sacrificing his remaining good hand. Garcia and Sean lingered in silence, waiting for Emily to come around again.

"It means so much to me that you wanted to stay, though," Emily said as if their conversation hadn't been interrupted by the worst pain she'd ever experienced. "It really does. I'll see you guys soon, hopefully." She took a hug from Sean as well before he and Garcia were ushered out of the room by some impatient stares from medical staff.

Hotch stood closer to Emily, gathering her hands and kissing them. The hustle and bustle in the room, the readying for the arrival of his and Emily's children, had his spine tingling, his head swimming, and his hazing with a thin layer of tears. Emily hadn't seen him crying yet when she asked her mother if she could get a minute alone with him.

Emily had stopped caring long ago about her lower half being exposed to the world, so as her doctor and nurses milled about near her feet, all she really sensed was Hotch, looking ready to burst into tears. "Can you believe this?" she asked in awe, tears mixing with the couple of beads of sweat that had dripped from her forehead and down her cheeks. "It's really happening."

Hotch's breath quavered as he nodded, feeling himself lose a little color. Even if Jack had just been born, Hotch didn't think that could have prepared him a bit for this. He remembered every second of Jack's birth, but that didn't make this any less life-changing. "I love you. More than anything."

"I love you, too," she said, drawing in as deep of breaths as she could. "I can't believe everything's come to this, you know? With every milestone we've hit, I say it again, I know, but it still blows my mind that we're here."

"Trust me, I know." Hotch kissed her gently, stroking her damp cheek with his thumb.

"All right, mommy, time to start pushing," the doctor said from Emily's feet.

"Quick, go get my mom for me," Emily said, watching Hotch rush off.

Elizabeth took her seat again on Emily's other side. "I'd ask you how you're feeling, but that's kind of a silly question, isn't it?"

—

"I knew it was a possibility, but who ever thought you and I would have a blonde baby?" Emily joked quietly to Hotch, playing with the fine, light hair that graced the younger boy's head.

"It'll darken up, probably. At least it's obvious they aren't identical, right? A little less work for Mommy and Daddy," Hotch said, holding the dark-haired boy close to his chest. Both of them slept soundly after their first feeding, which had been a fiasco.

"We need to decide on names before we introduce them," Emily said, butterflies fluttering in her stomach as the blonde baby squirmed in his sleep. "I think Benjamin should be the brunette. And I don't know why, it's just a feeling."

"I was going to say the same. I think Ryan goes better with blonde hair."

"Blonde for now," Emily corrected. "You're right, chances are they'll both end up with dark hair. They at least got the dimples for sure. They're gonna be heart breakers, I'm telling you."

"Dimples are dominant. Reid told me when we had everyone over for Christmas and Garcia was going on about how the babies would have them. You could've had anyone's babies and they would've had them."

"Seriously? Way to rain on my parade. Okay, well, the dimples are still going to win awards. Just look at them."

"I think someone's at the door," Hotch said, cocking his head. A nurse had just exited, leaving the door open. Garcia stood across the hall, waiting to be let in. When Emily waved and nodded, Garcia beckoned to a waiting room full of people who followed her in. Nobody stopped them from crowding the room this time.

"Oh, by the way, I'm sorry I called you an asshole during that one push," Emily said quickly with a light chuckle before anyone else entered the room.

"I think I'll get over it," Hotch said, preparing for Benjamin to be taken from him by Garcia, whose eyes swam in tears that threatened to take makeup down with them as they fell. Sean stepped aside to let Emily's father pass by and hold his other grandson.

"Sweetheart, they're beautiful. Did you decide on names yet?" George asked. The congratulations and expressions of awe came to a halt at the mention of names.

"Yes, names!" Garcia whispered.

"Garcia is holding Benjamin, and Grandpa's got Ryan," Emily announced. "Not identical, clearly, so no need for name tags."

"Nice names, very very nice," Morgan said. "Middle names are Derek and David, right?" he cracked, winking at Rossi, who rolled his eyes up to the ceiling.

"Sorry, middle names went to the dearly departed only," Hotch said. "Oh, sorry," he said when he realized everyone was staring at him, still waiting for an actual answer. "Um, Benjamin William and Ryan Matthew."

"Only twelve minutes and two ounces apart," Garcia reported, seemingly proud to have been privy to at least that much information.

"You done good, kid," Rossi said to Hotch while the babies were passed carefully from person to person.

"Thanks." Hotch smirked at Rossi for a moment, then caught Emily's eye from across the room as she fawned over Benjamin with Jessica.

"Get in some good alone time with just Emily and the babies? Because you won't have that again for a while. You have too many annoying friends and family who will be swarming your place whenever they can, and three other kids who will all be curious and jealous as hell."

"We got some quality time in, yeah. It was a little stressful with the breastfeeding, though," Hotch said before remembering he was talking to Rossi.

"How so?"

"Well, apparently it's not as easy as it sounds. Getting them to latch was tricky."

"Latch?" Rossi asked, one eye growing wide.

Hotch sighed in frustration with himself for opening his mouth. "You know…latching on…"

"Oh, that?" Rossi shrugged. "If they don't get the hang of it now, they'll get it when they grow up. It's a pretty simple concept."

"Thank you for that, Dave," Hotch said flatly, crossing his arms.

"What? I wouldn't be doing my job if everyone left the room comfortable."

"Truer words have never been spoken," Hotch said with a shake of his head.

"Hey," Rossi said, seeing to have just remembered something. "Want a smoke?" He opened his jacket pocket and flashed a few cigars.

"You _are_ joking, right?"

"I don't joke about cigars."

"I didn't have a cigar _last_ time you offered me one. What makes you think I'd leave my wife and two newborns to go outside, smoke a cigar, and come back in smelling like that?"

"What? Come on, they're the 'It's a boy!' kind…" Rossi said enticingly.

"Cubans with blue paper taped around the middle?"

"Only because I couldn't find the real kind. They must've stopped selling them in hospital gift shops when people got this whacky idea that smoking isn't healthy."

**That Evening**

"All right," Jessica whispered, "we have to be very quiet. The babies are probably sleeping. Ready?" She held Charlotte in her arms and looked down at Henry and Jack, who nodded.

"Auntie Jessie?" Henry asked just before she led them to Emily's hospital room. It wasn't the first time Henry had said that, but the effect was still enough to make her smile, no matter what the context happened to be.

"Yes?"

"Pick me up." He held his arms out.

"I can try. I don't know, though, you're such a big boy."

"Henry," Emily called from her bed. "I hear you…come see me!"

"Mommy!" he cried, running with Jack to the room from which Emily's voice had sounded. She sat up in bed, one sleeping baby in each arm.

"Not so fast," Hotch said, playing bodyguard. "You can sit next to Mommy, but you can't climb all over her, okay? And you need to be quiet," he said to the boys. He lifted Henry up into the space on one side while Jack got up on the other side by himself.

"Those were in your belly?" Jack asked.

"Yup," Emily said with a soft laugh. "That's why it was so big."

"Which one's Ben?" Jack asked, pulling on the edge of one of the receiving caps.

"The other one," Emily said. "This one's Ryan."

Hotch looked on with loving pride as the Jack and Henry familiarized themselves with their new brothers. So keen was his focus that he'd forgotten about the other two people in the room until Charlotte spoke up. "Daddy," she whined, throwing out her arms, requesting a transfer.

Hotch's eyes lit up even brighter at his favorite sound. "Charlie, hey, princess," he said, taking her from Jessica. "Thanks for going to get them. I thought that's what Sean was going to do, though. You didn't have to."

"He's, uh, busy," Jessica said cryptically, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. "But it's no problem, I wanted to see them again anyway. They're absolutely adorable. I know where William came from, but who was Matthew, if you don't mind me asking?"

"He was an old friend of Emily's who passed away a few years ago. How'd the kids do today?"

"We were good, Daddy," Jack informed him, hopping down off the bed. "Uncle Sean's at home putting the crib together!"

"Something tells me that was supposed to be a surprise," Hotch said, crouching down to give Jack a one-armed hug. "I missed you, buddy."

"I missed you, too. When are you coming home?"

"When Mommy and the babies do. Probably in a couple of days."

"Babies," Charlotte echoed, pointing to the bed. Hotch grinned and brought her there, holding her over the new additions.

"Hey, sweetie," Emily said, reaching up to cup Charlotte's cheek. "Are you having fun with Uncle Sean and Auntie Jessie?"

Charlotte nodded fervently and tried to wiggle free. Hotch set her down in the spot that Jack had left open, and she clutched onto Emily's shoulder, peering over it to get a look at Ryan. "Ben," she said, pointing.

"Nope, the other one is Ben," Emily corrected. She looked at Hotch in mild exasperation. "I thought the fraternal thing was supposed to be easier."

**Three Days Later**

Emily almost let out a triumphant cry from the middle of the bed. Hotch was putting Ryan down in his bassinet and when he turned, he saw Benjamin nursing for the first time since they'd gotten home from the hospital the day before. "Look, look, he's doing it," Emily whispered, not wanting to startle the baby. "Oh my God, what a relief."

Snaking an arm behind Emily, Hotch reclined next to her and could feel the anxiety leaving her body in smooth, relaxed breaths. Interacting with the newborns had been nothing short of magical until it came time to feed Benjamin, who had only taken bottles until now. It had bothered both of them far more than the sleep deprivation. "All's right in the world again," he said.

"Until next time, anyway. Let's hope it's like riding a bike."

Emily felt Hotch's lips on her temple and his hand gently gripping her shoulder. "If it's not, then we have to stay patient. We can call a lactation—"

"No way, I'll get it on my own," Emily said sternly.

"I thought for sure that having your own baby in your arms might make you a little less like yourself, but I don't think you've ever been more in character."

"Are you saying I'm…_stubborn_?" Emily asked, turning her head and feigning utter shock.

"That would be the very nice way of putting it," Hotch answered with a laugh and a kiss.

"Can perfect get more than perfect?" Emily wondered aloud.

"What do you mean? What's missing?"

"More like who. I love that we got to honor Will, but I still miss him and obviously JJ."

"They're here in spirit," Hotch said, not trying to be trite at all.

"Oh, I know. I'm sorry, I'm not trying to complain. I just…really miss them."

"Me too. It's getting late," Hotch noted after a few moments' respectful silence. "I need to get the kids to bed, but I think we should have a little family time up here first. What do you say?"

"All seven of us in one bed?"

"Just this once?" Hotch almost begged, having been waiting for this moment since the children had come to visit the babies and Emily in the hospital.

"Oh, trust me, I wasn't objecting," Emily said. "Just give me fifteen minutes. I don't want to distract him." Benjamin was finished within the promised time frame, and still awake when Jack, Henry, and Charlotte were finally permitted to climb into bed all at once. Hotch took Ryan, still asleep, into bed with him.

"It's a little crowded," Emily said, raising her eyebrows as she noticed that the family covered almost every square inch of the bed, the way they were arranged.

"That's what Uncle Sean said when he and Daddy moved the big bed out of the guest room so they could put the baby stuff in it," Jack interjected. "He said he was being da-victed from his own room."

"_E_victed?" Emily asked; Jack nodded. "I guess that had kind of become his room. I think we need to upgrade soon. As many good memories as this house holds, I think we've outgrown it." She knew full well that if she mentioned this in front of the children, she and Hotch would never hear the end of it, and he would eventually relent.

"A new house?" Jack asked. "Cool! Can we get one with a pool?"

"Why'd you have to go and do that?" Hotch asked Emily quietly, but not without a smile to his voice. He had absolutely nothing to complain about at this moment in time.

"Maybe soon, but absolutely no pool," Emily said to Jack.

"Daddy says you'll give me anything I want as long as I smile big. Can I hold Ryan?" he asked, looking to Emily and touching the baby's miniscule fingers.

"It's _Ben_," Emily and Hotch said together.

"Ben's the one with the brown hair," Emily continued. "But yes, you can hold him," she said. "Sit back against me, okay?"

Jack nodded and sat between Emily's knees, letting her lift the baby carefully over his head and lay him across his lap. "I gotta hold his head up."

"That's right," Emily said, kissing Jack on the back of the head and peeking over his shoulder at Ben's dark brown wandering eyes.

"How come Ben looks like you and Daddy but Ryan doesn't? He's got blonde hair and blue eyes like Charlie," Jack said.

"Lots of babies are born with blue eyes and they change later on, and his hair might get darker, but it's still possible for me and Daddy to have made a baby that will stay looking like Charlie. Kinda crazy, huh?"

"Daddy," Charlotte said for no reason other than to hear her own voice. Hotch grinned and opened up an arm for her to cozy up to. Henry maneuvered his way behind Emily, standing on the pillows and using her head to balance as he scrutinized his new competition.

"There's actually room for Sean down there," Hotch noted. "Jack, why don't you go tell Uncle Sean that I said to take a break from cooking and come up here?"

"But I'm holding Ryan, I mean Ben," Jack protested.

"All right, I'll go," Hotch said, sidling out of bed with Ryan in his arms and Charlotte following right behind him. He let her go down the stairs first, following behind her so she didn't trip him. "Hey, Sean," he said. He was answered by a loud, ugly snore from the couch. Hotch surmised that he must have passed out sometime in the last few minutes, because he had been wide awake preparing yet another meal to freeze for later when Hotch had come down to relieve him from his supervisory duties. "I think you guys wore him right out," he told Charlotte, who walked over to the couch and got right in Sean's face, smiling at the funny noises he made. A knock sounded at the front door. "I think I know who that is," Hotch said to Charlotte. "Come on."

"Hello, Father Abraham!" Garcia said cheerfully when Hotch opened up the door. "I have come to relieve you of sixty percent of your parental duties and give the singletons their baths and read them bedtime stories. But first, I'm sure you're aware of the new rule I just made up where you must surrender the first newborn I see upon my entering the room." She removed her coat and shoes, then held her arms out. "Okay, now we're good. Hello, Charlotte," she cooed when Hotch picked up Charlotte now that his arms were available.

"You didn't have to come help," Hotch said, though grateful beyond words for the outpouring of support from all of their friends and family over the last few days.

"Oh, yes, I did. I called your brother—I hope you're not silly enough to ask how I got his number—to see if everything was hunky dory over here, and he didn't answer, so I figured he was either at a strip club or passed out cold somewhere from all the uncle-ing. And even if he had answered, I would have come over anyway. Don't tell me you weren't wondering when I'd grace you with my baby blue presence," she quipped, moving her hips to bring notice to her appropriately colored dress. "Where is my if-only-I-were-batting-for-the-other-team-and-she-weren't-madly-in-love-with-you soul mate?"

"Up in bed with the others. Just for the record, your second guess was correct. Sean's out cold. And he's actually never been to a strip club, at least that's what he once told me."

"Would you please stop trying to sell me your brother? I'm happily swept off my feet every time I see me bespectacled super hero."

Hotch chuckled. "Come on upstairs. We have room for one more."

**December 2005**

"This isn't a _whirl_, Agent Hotchner. I don't know how the paperwork got screwed up, or maybe you believe my parents pulled some strings, which they didn't, by the way," Emily said to Hotch with a biting tone and fierce eyes. "I _belong_ in this unit, and all I'm asking for is the chance to show you that." Her last words came out less steadily than her first.

Hotch examined Emily closely, could see her swallow anxiously. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something—maybe her forwardness, maybe his knowledge of her experience being suited for the job, or maybe just his gut—told him that he would be foolish to turn her away.

"I still need to look into this. I'm not promising anything," he replied, not wanting to relinquish his upper hand completely. He watched her wide eyes grow wider in surprise that her speech had worked.

"Understood," she said without a thought.

"We brief new cases every morning at ten a.m. You can see Facilities Management about a desk."

"You won't be sorry," Emily said certainly but quietly, her lips breaking into a smile as she turned to pick up her box of belongings, perhaps thinking that if she didn't leave soon enough, he would change his mind.

As Hotch watched Emily exit his office with a new spring in her step, something told him she was probably right.

**-****THE**** END****-**

**A/N:** First, as always, I would love to hear what you think! Please come out of hiding and leave a review, if you'd be so kind. No account needed :)

Thank you all _so __much_ for reading, reviewing, and supporting this story! It's been fantastic to have such lovely readers!

Speaking of oneshots and reviews, there is that regular reviewer oneshot where you can read about Hotch and Emily's SUV shenanigans from their honeymoon ;) If you've reviewed all/most of the chapters in this story (even after it was completed!), I will send it to you. Again, if you don't have an account but you've been leaving reviews faithfully and would like the oneshot, leave your email address in the "Name" field of a review so I can get that oneshot to you. FFN will delete your email address if you put it in the review - make sure to write it in with your name instead!

Now that you've finished, go check out the _many_ ATT oneshot tie-ins! :)


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